All in the details
by AFishCalledMonty
Summary: How can you live a normal life if you were made to be the perfect assassin? The people you've killed, the things you've done; they'll haunt you. The trick is to keep remembering; the reasons you decided to try and be normal. The ones you love and those small insignificant moments that make you realise it's all in the details. A series of one shots set after Hitman: Exile.
1. Opening

**A/N: Hello all, see I wasn't gone long. Now this is going to be slightly different to my usual stuff. It's going to be a series of one shots just a few windows into 47, Morgan and Seren's lives after Exile. So if you haven't read any of my previous Hitman stories I strongly suggest you do so now. Don't worry I'll wait for you. Are you back? Good. So as these are one shots there will be no over arching storyline, but they will be in chronological order (hopefully). The only exception being the opening here. This opening is set when Seren is around 15, and I was trying something new with the dialogue only format.**

 **Also, this is rated Mature as there will be some more graphic intimate moments shall we say at points. If you're not into these I will mark those chapters with an 'M' next ot their title so you are forewarned. Not all the stories will be like this, just some. You have been warned. So I'll leave you to do waht you always do, read, review and what was it again? Oh yes, enjoy! :)**

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Opening

"Dad, this is stupid. Why am I learning this?"

"Because its important you know how to predict someone's behaviour and this will help."

"I don't get why learning chess is going to help me with people."

"Chess is a complex game which pits two opposing minds against each other. To win you have to predict how I'll play, therefore you must know me as a person."

"But Ma already taught me how to play."

"No. Your mother taught you the rules. I am teaching you how to win."

"I don't see how learning how to win at chess is going to help me generally."

"If you learn to win chess by reading your opponents, you will learn how to predict people's behaviour in the real world. Don't move there."

"What? Why?"

"Because my Bishop is there, meaning you'll lose your Queen. Move that Castle instead. Good."

"Dad, I thought you didn't want me doing what you do for a living?"

"Of course not. But why does this lesson only apply to what I do? Why doesn't it apply to you passing your exams or getting a job? Or learning if someone is being dishonest with you or not? Not everything I teach comes back to killing Seren. You should know that by now."

"I'm not a kid anymore, I know. I just thought chess was about fighting."

"It is. But not all fights contain physical violence. Good, now move your Queen there."

"Still don't see how I'm learning to read you."

"Don't mumble. You need to look for the details, the finer points. Look at how I move, how I react to you, how I dress, even how I enter the room before we start. It's all in the details Seren. Not just what's happening on the board. Do you understand?"

"Yes Dad."

"Good. Now can you see what I am planning?"

"There. You're using your Queen as bait."

"Excellent. See, you're reading my behaviour."

"Yeah, but I know you."

"Do you?"

"…"

"That was a good move, but you're still not paying attention."

"Hrumph. Do you beat Ma like this? With cheap tricks and deception."

"I have yet to win a game against your mother."

"Really?"

"Really. She is by far the best player I have encountered. She changes her style every time, making it impossible for me to read her. Even after all this time."

"She's that good?"

"She was an excellent handler Seren, remember that. She saw details where no one else could see them. She knew what I wanted before I knew. It's one of the reason I love her."

"…"

"You're distracted. Concentrate."

"You don't say that to her you know."

"What?"

"That you love her. I've never heard you say it."

"She knows."

"How?"

"It's all in the details cariad."


	2. Sicily

**A/N: So as you can tell from the lack of the 'M' no graphic stuff here, but there is some intimate moments. This is in honour of all my readers who were very patient throughout all three of my stories and all I gave them was one measly kiss. I am a meany ;) Hope this makes up for it. Read, review and enjoy! :)**

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Sicily

The mournful sound of a piano and strings drifted up from the open plan living area below. I padded barefoot along the mezzanine balcony, the classical music along with the dim light from downstairs creating a haunting atmosphere. Peering over the banister I strained my eyes against the gloom searching for the presence I could feel already. A watching shadow that was probably very aware of my prying eyes but was keeping resolutely silent.

I couldn't sleep; and even though the music was on low so as to not disturb us I was certain I wouldn't be able to rest knowing he was back. I moved as quietly as I was able down the curving wooden stairs. To my dulled ears I ghosted with barely a sound, but I knew he would have registered my approach long before I had decided to intrude on his peace. The living room was nearly in darkness, only one lamp was on turned down to its lowest setting next to the expensive looking chest of drawers which housed the sound system.

I remembered giving the impressive gadget a funny look when 47 had first given me the tour of his villa in Sicily. I hadn't said anything, just glancing at the stoic assassin in disbelief that he even owned something built for entertainment; after all he had no television. He had simply raised one eyebrow at me in that imperious way he always did and moved on to the next part of the tour. I had followed, not pressing the issue, but a burning part of me had always longed to know what he played on it. Now I knew.

I wasn't a classical music connoisseur, so had absolutely no idea what this piece was called, but as I stilled, sweeping the minimalist living space for any sign of my host, I felt a comforting calm creep over me at the sad, lilting melody.

"It's Beethoven." I started at the sound of his deep even voice coming from the direction of the large modern sofa in the centre of the room. Zeroing in on it now I could see his imposing form sat in the middle, his arms resting on the back of the chair, one leg folded neatly over the other. I tiptoed round sheepishly to face him, my eyes were gradually adjusting to the light and I could see he was just in his shirt and suit trousers, his signature tie gone, the top two buttons open in an uncharacteristically relaxed manner. His head was tilted slightly back and I was surprised to see his eyes were shut. If he hadn't have spoken to me literally seconds before I would have been certain he was unaware of my presence. My eyes drifted over his repose body, he looked like a weary businessman returning from an overseas trip, except there were spots of red on his otherwise glaring white shirt. The only real sign of his macabre trade.

Abruptly he lifted his head, his heart-stopping blue eyes snapping open and locking onto me. I felt myself redden under his penetrating stare, suddenly aware of my attire. My soft blue flannel pyjama bottoms and vest top weren't the most flattering of clothes, and my cheeks flamed redder still as his eyes slowly slid down the length of me. "Do you like it?" I frowned, unsure what he was asking I liked exactly, then the music reached a crescendo, drawing my attention back to the reason why I knew he was home.

I nodded demurely, an unexpected wave of nervousness overcoming me. Maybe it was his unwavering stare while I stood in front of him in my pyjamas, or the way he had read my mind yet again. "I do. It's very sad though." I mentally rolled my eyes at my shy voice, come on Williams get a grip. My eyes had pretty much acclimatised to the low light and I saw his mouth twitch up at the corner as he leant forward, bringing his hands to rest in his lap. It was then I realised he was holding a tumbler filled with something brown and strong looking. 47 must have noticed my attention shift as he purposefully brought the glass up to his face as he took a deliberate swig of whatever was in it. I felt my lower stomach tighten as his blue eyes continued to burn into me, crinkling slightly at the corners, amusement dancing in them.

He lowered the glass and placed it carefully on the low coffee table positioned between us. "Is something wrong with me drinking?" He asked. His monotone tinged with humour.

"No. I'm just not used to this, that's all." 47 raised an eyebrow quizzically at me, inviting me to elaborate. I cleared my throat awkwardly, feeling like I shouldn't have bothered coming down. "You know…the drinking, the music. It's all very…human." I tripped over the last word, unable to settle on a more fitting description for his actions. This time his mouth stretched into that oh-so familiar half smile he reserved just for me.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't immediately like to power down and wait for my next assignment like a good clone." I couldn't help the cheesy grin that spread across my face at the sound of his out of character, sarcastic jibe. He let out a soft snort and flicked his gaze pointedly to the space next to him. "Are you intending on standing there all night?"

The grin vanished to be replaced by chagrin as I dithered for a moment before moving to sit down next to him. I sank into the sofa cushions, tucking my feet under me to keep them off the cool floor, making sure I kept a respectful distance between me and the out of hours assassin sat beside me. He gave me a sideways look, barely concealed amusement still evident in his expression. He sat back, resting his arms on the back of the chair once more. I was very aware that his large hand was only a few inches away from my head as we sat in silence, listening to the piece of music come to an end.

As the final strains of the piano faded into silence a strangely charged atmosphere began to build between me and the man sat as still as stone next to me. Neither one of us looked at the other, but I was sure he was as aware of it as I was. My senses were heightened, even though we weren't touching I could feel his body heat and staring blue eyes deep in my bones. It was as if a magnet was pulling me closer to him, although my surroundings assured me I was still stationary. I had only felt that pull once before, in the hotel room in Iowa, when he had kissed me.

It had been four months since the nightmare with Cicada had ended and he had offered his home here while I got mine and Seren's lives back on track. We hadn't spoken about that brief encounter in unusual circumstances. Although I could feel our relationship had shifted to more than just work colleagues, 47 still kept his distance from me and had never made another move in regards to anything like that since. Sure, I had dreamed about it a few times but that was all.

The atmosphere between us now was becoming too much however, and I was just about to break away from it and return to my bedroom when 47 shifted, turning his body to face me. "How are you finding it here Morgan? Is Seren happy?"

I blinked, his sincere question jarring with the mini electrical storm we had just created. "Yes. She seems okay. She's picking up Italian quickly, and she's made friends with practically everyone in her class." He nodded as I launched into our day-to-day goings on. He was still completing contracts, as a freelancer now of course, but he was away for long periods. I had only seen him five times in the months we had been here. The tension between us started to dispel as I recounted how Seren had tried her first olive and pulled a face before staring at me like I had poisoned her. He chuckled at that one, and my heart skipped a beat at the way his face softened when I spoke about her.

"I'm glad you're both okay." His voice was gentle, full of sincerity. This man had come a long way from the distant, cold person who had greeted Seren the first time. He genuinely looked like he cared. I smiled warmly at him as I nodded again. It faded slightly as I took in the islands of red on his shirt, he insisted he wanted a normal life but I knew there was no life for him that wouldn't involve killing someone at some point.

"How are you?" I asked, my voice sad and faltering.

"Better now I'm here." It wasn't the answer I was expecting. I stared into his glacial eyes and saw something there that made my insides clench and the crackling tension between us to immediately spring back into existence. My heart began to pick up pace as 47's eyes continued to bore into me, he was still but I could see the strong muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed as if ready to spring. Where? Away from me? Towards me? The second thought made my stomach tighten a little more, like a corkscrew burrowing into me. We stayed like this for what felt like an age, I was sure I had the rabbit in the headlights look as I stared down this magnificent predator. Part of me terrified, but part of me begging for him to pounce.

Eventually he blinked, breaking the spell he had cast over me. I blew out a long breath, trying to calm my wildly beating heart. What had all that been about? It appeared as if 47 was asking himself the same question as he ran a hand over his face.

"I'm…I'm sorry about us crashing here. Once the farm is repaired we'll get out of here. Leave you in peace." My mouth had gone dry so I croaked part of my apology. 47 ignored my inelegance and frowned.

"It's okay. I'm happy for you to stay. It's safe here for you and Seren, besides…it's been nice to have someone to come back to." There was such sadness in this last statement that I almost let out a muted whimper. He was the epitome of perfection, the ultimate killing machine but his life was a lonely one and sometimes he revealed how human he really was. I resisted the urge to reach out and touch his arm, knowing he would recoil from that kind of proximity. However, even as I processed this decision he shifted once more, moving effortlessly so he was a hairbreadth from me on the sofa. His arm, which was resting on the back of the chair was now completely behind me, his face hovered inches above mine so I could smell the strong scent of cologne coming off him, mixed with the tiniest metallic hint of blood.

My heart kicked back up into overdrive, he would likely hear it beating a tattoo against my ribcage but I didn't care. He knew what affect he had on me. I didn't move as he looked down, his eyes burning with a different fire. That pull was hard to ignore now, and I felt my breathing hitch as his finely sculpted lips parted ever so slightly. He tilted his head closer to me so I could feel his warm breath on my cheek, pausing his eyes found mine, waiting for permission. I gave it to him by closing the gap between us, touching my own flushed lips to his. It was a soft, sweet kiss. Shy and uncertain. Like the one we had shared briefly before. It still sent shockwaves of electricity through my nervous system, I half expected him to jolt backwards from the strength of the electrical current surging through me.

He pulled away first, disappointment gripping me again but he didn't go far this time. He stayed inches from my face, an uncertain expression on his as he looked at me. I didn't know what to say, or do. I didn't want to scare him off; this was the first time he had shown any intimacy towards me since our impromptu encounter before. So slowly it was barely moving I saw his hand move from his lap towards my face. He gently cupped my cheek, the gesture so at odds with what I had seen these hands do that I almost laughed. The laugh died in my throat however as he brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, the rough pad leaving a trail of fire in its wake. My nerves were jangling, unable to contain the adrenaline pumping through them at his closeness to me. I had no idea how far he was planning on taking this, but I would grab whatever moments I could.

His eyes were still locked onto mine, the fire behind them growing and melting them to liquid sapphire. I felt my insides copying them, and my cheeks grew hot from the blood rushing to them. His mouth twitched in response to my blushing, then his expression turned to one I had never seen before. He looked like a starving man staring at his last meal, and before I could react to the intensity of it he tightened his grip on my face and pulled me to him.

This time the kiss was anything but soft. He held me in place, his mouth moving hungrily against mine. I let him kiss me for a moment, too shocked to process what was happening, my lips felt like they were on fire. Then the fire spread to the rest of me and I began to kiss him back. My hands found their way to his shirt, and I gripped onto the material as I sat up on my heels, pressing myself into him while at the same time pulling him towards me. The hand he had been resting behind me wound itself round my waist, binding me to him. We were locked together, neither of us content with how tightly we were holding the other. I wanted to be cemented to him forever, this man who had come crashing into my life, changing it permanently.

I had never been kissed like this before, I could feel him everywhere, his lips pushed mine apart and I yielded willingly as his tongue tentatively stroked against mine. It was such an intimate gesture I felt the strength begin to leak from my legs as he moved his hand around from my cheek, entangling his fingers in my hair. He must have felt me begin to slip as his arm gripped me tighter around the waist, holding me against him. I could feel the granite hardness of his muscles beneath his shirt; it was like being flattened against a warm wall.

He pulled away again, giving me chance to catch my breath as it was coming in ragged bursts now. I was surprised and a little smug to hear he was having his own problems controlling his breathing; his lips were parted as he let out short, quiet pants. His eyes were still filled with a burning desire that made my stomach do an impressive somersault, his hands still holding me in place. I wouldn't have been able to move if I wanted to.

"Morgan." He breathed, the reverent way he said my name made my heart soar. I didn't want this moment to end, but I could feel him drifting away. The uncertain look on his face warring with the intense passion he had just shown.

"What's the matter?" I whispered. The lost look in his face increasing by the second.

"This is…all new to me. I'm sorry." It didn't sound like the 47 I knew, he sounded like a lost child. I loosened my hold on his shirt and rested my hands on his chest. The steady beat of his heart against my hand made my breathing hitch again, and I closed my eyes letting its rhythm resonate through me. We stayed like that for a moment, letting our breathing return to normal. Finally I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was staring at me with a confused, unsure expression.

"I should….I should go back to bed." I finished lamely. I really didn't want to push him any further. He had already given me more than I expected. It was nice to know I hadn't scared him off with our first kiss. The fire in his eyes was still there, burning beneath the doubt but I had already lost my nerve. Unfolding my legs I stood up as quickly as my weakened knees would allow, a hungry ache still sat low in my gut and I bit my lip trying to resist the urge to leap on the man in front of me. He watched me with a nearly impassive stare, but I could tell he was rattled. "Will I see you in the morning?" I asked in a small uneven voice. 47 regarded me for a second before nodding his head slowly.

I stumbled my way awkwardly back upstairs, my nerves jangling from the unexpected 'make out' session he had just initiated. What did it mean? He had barely come near me since everything with Cicada, I had just assumed it had been a moment of curiosity between us in the hotel room that night. But that kiss just now, that had been something else.

After what felt like the longest walk I had ever done I reached the main bedroom again and quietly shut the door behind me. Turning, I leant against it and let out a long sigh. I looked at the room in the moonlight, the long white curtains blowing gently from the breeze outside. I knew 47 disapproved of me leaving the window open at night but I couldn't stand the oppressive humidity indoors or the artificial cold of the air con. I flopped face down onto the double bed and groaned into the covers.

"Get a grip." I muttered to myself as I flipped over and stared at the ceiling. Memories of 47 tenderly attending to my wound when he had last brought me here flashed up unbidden into my mind. It made the dull ache in my groin flare remembering the touch of his hand on my stomach. "Not helping." I growled quietly, pounding my fists lightly on my forehead.

I turned onto my side and stared at the curtains drifting back and forth. Trying desperately to get the feel of that kiss out of my mind. Eventually I gave in and let my mind drift into a fantasy where I hadn't chickened out just then and I had stayed sat next to the man I loved. I was in the middle of my delicious dream when the atmosphere shifted slightly in the room. I wasn't sure how but I was suddenly aware of someone watching me. With a quick jerking movement I turned to look at the doorway, the last remnant of my dream fleeing my head.

My heart jumped into my mouth as I saw a familiar shadow stood by the door, his white shirt glowing in the moonlight and his blue eyes almost visible from where I was as they stared at me.

"I didn't mean to scare you." 47 murmured as he walked silently over to the end of the bed. I strained to see his expression, not sure how to take this sudden appearance in my bedroom. Well, technically it was his bedroom and his bed I was sleeping in. That thought brought the hot fire in my groin back almost instantly. He stood there for a minute, not saying anything, then he slowly lowered himself down to sit next to me, the mattress dipped and I felt myself rolling towards him.

"It would be better if you made a little noise when walking round if you're not planning on giving me a heart attack." I felt the bed rock slightly as he let out a low, rare chuckle.

"Sorry, old habits. I'll make a note." I lay awkwardly on my side waiting for him to continue, wondering exactly what he was doing in the middle of the night sat on the bed with me. He looked down at me, his eyes still holding an unasked question, but that burning light in them was definitely still there. I sat up to better see his face in the gloom and felt my throat constrict at the expression that came over 47's face without warning. It was pure, unrestrained desire and my own fire still smouldering down below answered him.

"Morgan." He growled as he gripped the back of my head with his hand and began kissing me earnestly. There was something different about this encounter to the one on the sofa; I could feel a desperation in the way 47's mouth moved against mine, the electricity crackling between us as I succumbed to his assault on my lips.

He slowly pushed me back down into the covers, his body hovering over mine, caging me in his embrace. My mind was a mess; a swirling mass of confusion and elation. My stomach quivered as he ran his tongue over mine. Deepening the kiss, I felt him slowly lower his body onto me, the weight of it pushing me further into the bed. Fire and electricity were mingling together inside of me to create a storm of emotions. I ran one of my hands over the back of his head, right over the place where his tattoo was. 47 let out a low, guttural moan, the sound of it resonating through me, doing amazing things to my lower regions. His obvious desire for me gave me a burst of courage, and I moved my hands to his shirt. I dealt with the first few buttons efficiently before my progress was halted by a firm hand gripping both my wrists.

"Wait. Are you sure you want to do this?" His question confused me. I frowned up at his serious face, although his eyes were still regarding me hungrily. _Of course,_ I practically screamed in my head. Then his question slipped into focus, he knew I wanted this, he wasn't stupid. But just like he always did he was thinking five steps ahead, whereas I was caught up in the joyous moment. He was asking if I was sure I wanted to change our delicate, ecosystem of a relationship forever. We had danced around this mulberry bush since meeting it felt like, although I had only found out I had had a partner in the dance a month ago. In some ways our kiss in the hotel had begun the seismic shift but this would definitely be the earthquake.

I stared up at the man I loved, whether rightly or wrongly, and read everything he had wanted to ask in his expression. Was I sure I wanted to cross this line and face tying myself to someone who believed whole-heartedly that they were a killer and nothing more? Was I sure I wanted to waste myself with someone who had never been emotionally invested in anyone and wouldn't have the first clue where to start? I knew this was what he was thinking, but the truth was I had answered him long ago when I had chosen him over my friend, sending that friend to his death. That had been the moment I had answered this question he had only just asked me.

I gave him a small smile, tugging gently on my wrists signalling him to let go. He obliged instantly, letting my hands continued their course down his shirtfront. "Yes 47. I'm sure."

The serious expression changed briefly to one of amazement, before the fire in his eyes intensified, making me fumble with my task of freeing him from his shirt. I felt him shiver as my knuckles brushed against the skin of his chest, it was made laborious by my stunted right hand and the adrenaline coursing through me but finally I undid the last button. Abruptly he sat up on his knees and I followed suit, hypnotised by his presence. Keeping his eyes locked onto mine he shrugged out of his dress shirt and regarded me.

I was mesmerised by his naked torso. His pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light, the perfect planes of his chest criss-crossed with a mass of scars and dotted with gunshot wounds. Tentatively I ran my hands down the contours of his muscles, listening intently as he took in a sharp breath at my touch. My heart was now racing and it wasn't helped by the jolt of electricity that passed between us as my hand reached his belt and halted.

We stared at each other, the energy jumping between us like a conductor; there was an uncertain look on 47's face and I had to remind myself that for him this was new ground. The thought almost shocked me out of the moment as I realised that this was something I had more knowledge of than him. Sure, it had only been a few fumbled encounters with boys at my university and the occasional guy I met when out with Helen but it had definitely been more than him. I had to stop myself from giggling and completely killing the mood as the enormity of what we were about to do hit home. This beautiful assassin who was so experienced at ending people's lives and confident in doing so, was at a loss as to what to do here.

Giving him a small, shy smile I tugged gently at his belt and began to undo it. His eyes flicked briefly down to my hand, the instinct to halt my progress evident in the way he tensed. I moved slowly, trying my best not to alarm him but his eyes snapped back up to me and burned bright with desire. Finishing with his belt I undid his trousers with a confidence and finesse I wasn't even aware I had. Then riding on the crest of my sudden brashness I grip the bottom of my pyjama top and pulled it quickly over my head.

I found myself panting slightly as I felt my skin prickle with goose bumps, the urge to cover my exposed breasts in front of him so strong it sent a hot flush of embarrassment to my cheeks. I thought it was too dark to notice my reddening face but 47 lifted a hand and caressed the area where the blood was pooling under my skin. My chest began to restrict as his eyes drifted down from my face and ran achingly slow over my body, his gaze hungry making my stomach turn to liquid. Then, just as slowly, his hand brushing my cheek followed the path of his eyes, trailing fire down my neck and over my breasts as his finger stroked my exposed skin.

I shivered as his hand reached my navel and his ethereal eyes flashed back up to my face. Before I could register what was happening he had leant towards me, pushing me back into the bed sheets. I stared up at him as with deft hands he slid my pyjama bottoms and underwear off in one fluid movement. He pressed his bare chest down onto me, the feeling of his skin on mine was enough to drive me wild. It felt like a sheet of burning fire licking at my chest and stomach; scorching hot but also soft as silk at the same time. He stared down at me, his expression still unsure. My impatience was growing by the second, I had wait years for this moment and my body was fighting not to combust before I could truly enjoy it.

"Trousers. Now." I managed to pant out. 47 titled his head a fraction, a small smirk quirking his lips as he disposed of the rest of his clothes without breaking eye contact with me.

"Impatient." He murmured, the smile still on his lips as he pressed them to mine lightly. I felt my body quivering underneath him, the weight and feel of him were too much to bare and almost of their own accord my legs parted in an attempt to draw him closer to me. He let out a soft growl as he moved forward, aligning himself with me as if he knew what to do.

Brown eyes were fixed on blue in the silver moonlight as we both held our breath, conscious of what was supposed to come next. There was nothing in between us now, only uncertainty. But as my body screamed through the flames for the man above me, all uncertainty crumbled like charred paper and I closed my eyes in sheer bliss as he closed the last agonising distance between us. Finally making us one.

The night past in a hazy, dreamlike blur. I couldn't get enough of him and amazingly he seemed equally incapable of leaving me alone. After the last time of him crying my name into my sweat sheened shoulder, we collapsed together, my heart beating manically as I curled into his side. We didn't speak, we didn't need to. All we wanted to say to each other we had said with our bodies. 47 was a man of few words but this was one of the few times I didn't mind that trait.

I felt my eyelids droop. Weariness starting to overcome me as I basked in the afterglow of our first time. His quite literally the first time, but mine the first with someone I truly loved. It was an intoxicating feeling. 47 wrapped a warm arm around me and pulled me closer to his side. I closed my eyes and draped my own arm over his chest, letting the rise and fall of his breathing steady my racing heart. I felt the rhythm of it slow and after a few minutes opened one eye to peek at the assassin lying next to me.

His face was the most relaxed I had ever seen it. I realised with a jolt I had never seen him asleep before, not a real, deep sleep anyway. Entranced I watched him as he lay in my arms, completely vulnerable. My chest suddenly felt very tight and very warm at the same time. The simple act of him letting down his guard in my presence was in some ways more intimate than what we had just done together. Smiling widely, I gave him once last loving look before tucking my head back under his arm and letting sleep drag me down with him.


	3. The Contract (M)

**A/N: Okay, so as you can tell from the 'M' next its title this one has some graphic sexual content. I have never posted this kind of thing before so I am a little nervous. I hope those of you who have wanted this from the start of my story like it. If seeing 47 in these situations isn't your bag I suggest just skipping these stories and reading the less graphic ones. Anyway, let me know what you think. I'll see you in the next one. :)**

* * *

The Contract (M)

I stumbled into the hotel elevator, the wound I had been given by my latest target throbbing painfully. The lobby was mercifully quiet, so no one noticed the injured, blood-stained man as I stabbed aggressively at the button for my floor. The contract had gone south, fast. I hadn't really had much time to register the ambush until it was too late, and I had been lucky to escape with only a minor injury to my thigh. The bastards had been smart, they knew how to sever the connection between me and Morgan at least so I had lost my partner around about the time the heavy had stuck a knife in me.

I leant against the wall of the elevator as it clattered up the shaft towards my floor. The pain was starting to swell and I knew I desperately needed to clean and treat the cut as soon as possible. The doors slide open with an insolent ping and I staggered out into the run down corridor. This wasn't the nicest place we had stayed, but it was close to the city's exits and quiet, with barely any other guests staying. I clutched at my thigh as I limped towards my room, I could almost feel the relief flooding me as I reached the faded mahogany door.

I practically fell into the room, startling Morgan as she hurriedly stood up, her headset still attached to her. "Holy shit, what the fuck happened?" Even with her coarse choice of words, her voice was like a soothing balm to me. She yanked the headset from her head and dashed over to me, shutting the door behind me. Ducking under my arm she supported me to the bed, before depositing me there. "Where are you hurt?" She asked, her brown eyes scanning me.

Even with the immense amount of pain I was feeling I couldn't help giving her a small half smile, as her concern turned to slight panic at the sight of my leg. The blood was making a sticky wet stain on my suit trousers and I could see Morgan's hesitation as her fingers fluttered over the obvious wound. I waved her away, trying to keep the pain out of my face and she stepped back, worry evident in her eyes.

"I'll be fine. It's nothing fatal." I felt a rare stab of fear as I realised it could have gone so differently. Had I not side-stepped at that exact moment, I would have felt the knife sink into my chest, cutting my aorta. The effects of aging were something I hadn't had to face until now, I was older than any other hitman in the business and had always been at the peak of physical health. However, I had noticed how I was starting to run a little slower, lift a little less and miss small things from time to time. It hadn't bothered me too much until now, until I nearly hadn't walked away.

Morgan watched me as I grasped the ripped material of my trousers and torn a hole in them to get to the wound. I saw her grimace out of the corner of my eye at the sight of fresh blood welling up out of the deep gash on my thigh. This was going to need stiches I thought sourly, but was careful not to show my frustration and pain to my partner. It would only worry her more.

She came back to my side as I tried to lever myself off the bed. Supporting my body weight once more she guided me to the bathroom, then without saying anything she quietly left me to tend to my injury. She had seen me come home beaten and shot before; this was nothing new. But it was only me this time who knew how things might have turned out, and the image of Morgan sat in this grotty hotel room waiting patiently for a man who would never return was more excruciating than the bone deep cut to my leg.

Taking a deep breath and pushing these emotions to one side for a moment, I set about cleaning and suturing my thigh. Once stitched and bandaged I threw back two morphine pills and waited for the effects to kick in, before standing slowly and exiting the bathroom. I still needed to clean the blood from the rest of my body, but the urge to see Morgan again was too strong. Now I had completed my task I could feel the emotions nagging at me for my attention.

She was sat back at the small desk in the room, staring at the blue glare of her laptop. She flicked me a glance as I walked back towards the bed, lowering myself gingerly onto it. "So, dare I ask? Did you kill him?" The sound of her voice stirred up that uncomfortable image again, causing my chest to tighten and a smouldering anger at my assailants to flare up inside me. They had nearly taken my life from me, taken her from me. I didn't respond, causing her to turn and look at me with those twinkling brown eyes that I loved so much. The orange glow of the interior lights softened the edges of her face, the pain squeezed in my chest. I hadn't changed much, aside from my performance, I only had a few extra wrinkles around my eyes and mouth to show my age. Although I was unsure whether it was due to my advancing years or to Morgan's effect on me, she had a habit of making me smile. She however had changed in the years I had known her, but I didn't see the extra wrinkles, all I saw was my growing affection for her. Her face had become something I longed to see, she really was beautiful.

She wasn't classically attractive, she was fairly plain if you were to ask anyone else. It was her character and humour, which shined out of her intelligent eyes, her honesty and trusting nature towards me and her bravery which made her the most important person in my world. Besides Seren of course. She smirked at me now, the gesture causing a very different squeezing sensation inside of me.

"I'll take that as a yes then." She quipped at me as she turned back to her laptop. Suddenly the smouldering anger and the relief at still being able to watch her like this welded together to form a strong, desperate feeling inside of me. I gripped the bed sheets forcefully trying to control my now raging emotions, but I could tell in my current drugged state it was going to be hard to win. The feeling flared harshly as Morgan tucked a wayward strand of soft brown hair behind her ear, her tongue poking out in concentration.

I stood up abruptly, the pain in my leg dulled not only by the morphine but by my sudden desire for the woman in front of me. She turned to look at me sharply, my quick movement startling her after my less than elegant entrance. She stood up and came over to me, concern written on her face.

"47, are you ok?" I knew my expression was probably angry and she was worried something was bothering me, but I couldn't resist any longer and I closed the gap between us in two quick strides, grasping the back of her head, pulling her to me. I could feel her tensing at the unexpected contact, but it didn't take long for the heat to pool beneath her lips and she relaxed against me with a sigh. I kissed her with a hungry ferocity, like it was the last time. My other hand pressed against the small of her back and pinned her to me, our bodies pressing together in a tantalising way.

I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, her hands clasped the back of my head and she bounced up on the balls of her feet. Always so small compared to me. I felt her fingers brush the place where my barcode tattoo was ingrained on my skin, the area tingling like an electric current had been passed through it. I became aware she was struggling to breathe and pulled away to let her catch her breath. It came out in ragged bursts, her eyes searching my face, warm and clouded with desire.

The feeling inside me throbbed at the sight of her want for me, pooling between my legs. "What was that all about?" She asked in a throaty whisper. I could feel my heart beating aggressively against my rib cage, the pain in my leg forgotten as I lost myself in her eyes.

"Nothing. I wanted…I just missed you." She smiled a sweet smile at me, her fingers brushing the back of my head again. I closed my eyes, revelling in the feel of her body against mine, the unconditional, misplaced love for me radiating from her.

"You're still covered in blood." I heard the laugh in her voice as she strained away from me to take in my dishevelled appearance. Usually I would stop here, keeping my distance even though I wanted to be closer to this woman than to anyone else in my troubled existence. But the desire did win occasionally, and even though my training made me feel weak for those times, it was always in the moments when I thought I had nearly lost Morgan that it overcame me. This was one of those times.

I let out a low growl and renewed my assault on her lips, she gave a soft gasp as I gripped her to me. I began trying to shrug out of my suit jacket, she noticed my efforts and placed her hands on my lapels pulling the jacket off my shoulders, I flung it to the floor. She didn't need any encouragement, these moments were rare and she always grasped them willingly when I offered them to her. She started to pant desperately as her hands came up to my tie and deftly undid the knot, sliding it seductively off me, letting it pool on the floor by my discarded jacket.

All the while I kissed her, letting my mouth explore hers, memorising the details of her skin, her tongue, the smell of her, the feeling of her melting into me. She was working me out of my stained dress shirt now, her fingers moving down the length of me. I felt an electric jolt as her knuckles brushed against my bare skin, the desire tugging at me hungrily, begging her to go quicker. Finally she had completed the task and we both scrabbled to remove it from me, flinging into the growing pile of clothes at our feet.

We paused, her eyes were fire now, glinting bronze in the dim hotel room light. Her mouth was open as she gasped desperately for air, her hands slowly sliding up me to rest on my chest. We stared at each other, letting the quiet wash over us briefly, knowing there was no turning back now. Achingly slow, Morgan began to kneel, her hands leaving trails of fire on my front as they moved down to meet my belt. I could feel the uncomfortable throbbing of my arousal as she began to undo my belt and then my trousers. She flashed a cheeky grin up at me as she inched my trousers off, careful not to jostle my freshly stitched wound. I growled again in frustrated anticipation, and her grin widened.

It was too much for me to take. I grasped her shoulders and yanked her upright. The surprised look on her face spurred me on, and I grabbed under her legs and pulled her up. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around my waist and gripped onto my neck for support. She was laughing openly now, the sound washing over me like gentle waves. The feeling of her warm body shaking against me was too much and I endeavoured to silence her laugh with another sound very shortly. Kicking myself out of my trousers completely I strode, with her attached to my now naked body, towards the bathroom.

I was no longer thinking; I was purely acting on my animal instinct. I wanted her, I needed her. I moved us both into the shower, pressing Morgan up against the tiled wall. She was still giggling as I moved my mouth to her neck, working my way down to her chest. Her laughter stuttered and I heard the beginnings of those delicious sounds she made when we did this, that made me feel so powerful. Her gasping moans made me more desperate, and I freed one of the hands holding her, supporting her weight with my body, and grabbed at her shirt. I stared at her, holding her gaze with a piercing stare. Her chest rose and fell dramatically as I took a firm hold of her shirt and tore it open. She let out a small lustful noise as I helped her out of the ruined piece of clothing and quickly dealt with her bra in a similar manner.

"Try not to destroy all of my clothes if you can 47." She shot at me cheekily, a minx like smile stretching her face.

"No more talking." I growled at her, in a voice like liquid fire and felt the responding shiver run through her at the sound. To stop her from disobeying I moved my mouth to her now exposed breasts, slowly moving over them until I could feel her body shaking with desire. I let go of her other leg, pinning her body against the wall with my hips, feeling the agonising pressure of her on my groin. I continued my journey from her chest back up to her neck, and finally her mouth as I began to work her out of her jeans inch by inch. Getting the material to her knees I slowly lowered her, so she was standing with her back against the wall. It was my turn now to tease, as I slowly moved down, dragging the jeans off of her.

She stared down at me, one hand resting on her chest as she fought to keep her breathing even. I flashed a burning look at her as I threw her jeans to one side and pulled her underwear down, disposing of them as well. Straightening up I took in her naked form, I had seen it a few times now, but it always stunned me how vulnerable she looked without clothes; the scar by her stomach and her uneven right hand standing out as livid reminders of my past failures to protect her. I leant in pressing myself against her, she moaned softly at the feeling of our skin touching. I had never feared dying until I had met Morgan; dying was inevitable, it was an occupational hazard, but this was worth living for, this was worth killing for.

I pressed the tap on the shower, turning on the warm gush of water above us. Morgan gave out a squeal and burst into more joyous laughter as I picked her up again, pressing myself between her legs. The feeling of our slick, wet skin did incredible things to my heart rate, and I used the weight of my body to finally move myself into her. I let out a low, involuntary moan at the feeling of her around me. Morgan's laughter had stopped abruptly and she was now clinging to my neck, her forehead pressed against mine. The water ran over us in warm rivulets, the liquid running into our mouths as I kissed her earnestly again.

My instincts took over and I began to move inside of her, she gyrated her hips matching my pace, pulling herself closer to me still. We moved as one, as if we were well versed in this dance together. She truly was my other half, meant for me and me alone. I would have doubted that something like me, a scientific experiment born from a test tube, could ever find someone like her. If I didn't know better I would have sworn she had been made for me in a similar fashion.

I let go of her legs, pressing my palms against the cool tiles behind her. My pace quickening as I felt the coiling desire in my loins, condensing and hardening into something solid. She pressed her cheek to mine, her ragged breath tickling my ear. She had my head locked in a passionate embrace now, her arms holding me as tightly as she was able. I felt all of my frustration and anger at nearly being outwitted by a bunch of nobodies begin to flow away with the water. My partner's hands were suddenly on my back, her fingers digging into my flesh as I felt her tensing around me.

"Oh, 47." She moaned lusciously into my ear, her insides pulling on me as she let go. It didn't take me long to follow, I felt the tight knot of desire inside harden briefly, before a wave of ecstasy shook through me and I groaned letting my body relax against hers. Holding her safely in place against the wall.

We stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the closeness and the gentle rhythm of the water on our backs. Finally I heard her chuckle, the feeling of her laughter sending aftershocks through me. "Well, that was…unexpected." She murmured softly into my ear. I pulled away to see her face, there was a serene smile stretching her mouth and I felt mine tug up at the corners in response.

"I know." I replied, in a slow, languid voice. Her eyes crinkled as her smile widened, and she placed a chaste kiss on my wet lips.

* * *

Her breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm finally, one hand resting lightly on my chest the other folded underneath her head. I lay still, careful not to disturb her, watching her peaceful expression in the dim, silver light from the window. We hadn't bothered dressing, just getting into the double bed together, Morgan chatting away to me sleepily as I listened to her familiar voice. Not thinking about anything but this moment.

Eventually she had grown quiet and now she had finally shifted into that deep state of sleep, where nothing wakes you not even an assassin entering your room. I tightened my arm around her ever so slightly, and felt a strong swell of affection as she moved in her sleep, smiling happily as she nuzzled in closer to me. When awake I knew Morgan didn't need me around to feel safe, she had more than proven she could look after herself. However, I liked to think in the rare instances when we shared a bed, that she slept a little sounder because I was next to her.

My thoughts drifted lazily to the contract and my still throbbing leg. Even through the drugged up and post coitus haze, I felt the cold stab of fear at the thought of that knife skimming past my chest. Coming so close to something vital. I stared down at Morgan's sleeping face, remembering it contorted in grief at the death of her parents and wondered if she would cry like that for me. I shook the horrific thought from my mind. As long as I was able I would do everything in my power to get back to her after a contract. The only problem was I didn't know if I was still able to promise that.

The years were wearing me down slowly, I wasn't sure I would always find it easy to overpower my enemies, not with the same efficiency, the same ruthlessness that is. Before it wouldn't have matter but now I had foolishly given myself something to live for, Morgan and Seren were what mattered, not me. I watched my partner's sleeping form for what felt like hours, turning over my thoughts. Could I walk away next time not knowing if I would see her again? It was hard to say, but as I held her warm body to me I thought for the first time, if maybe I should end all this and choose to just live with her instead.


	4. A Marriage of Convenience

A Marriage of Convenience

I stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the assassin next to me. He gazed back with his impassively cool eyes, his face appeared serious but I was certain I had misheard him.

"What did you just say?" 47's expression remained frustratingly blank; we were sat on the bench in Central Station I had used to meet with him when I was just starting out. The crowds of commuters flowed past us, oblivious to the well-dressed man and the slightly scruffy woman sat next to him. We looked like oil and water; so far from compatible it was a wonder even to me sometimes. Regardless, we had forged a strange, slightly unorthodox relationship. It wasn't exactly romance central, but I expected little else from the world's deadliest killer. I just enjoyed being near him, working with him and watching him in his rare moments of tenderness with Seren.

"I said, I've been thinking about marriage lately and its benefits to us." He delivered the line in his deep, monotone that always sent an involuntary shiver up my spine when I heard it.

"Uhhhh, okay. Kind of an odd subject, but I'm listening." His mouth twitched at the corner, holding back a smile.

"I'm not getting any younger Morgan." I snorted, interrupting him.

"Please, you don't look a day over 40." He raised his eyebrows at me slowly, an unimpressed look in his eyes. I held up my hands, smirking at him slightly. "Sorry, continue."

"Be that as it may, I am starting to feel the effects. My reflexes are slowing, I miss things, and contracts are starting to take their toll on me." I frowned, he hadn't mentioned this before and it was unlike him to admit flaws.

"I haven't noticed, you're fine as far as I can see." 47 shook his head slightly, his hand moving to rest on his thigh. My eyes followed the movement.

"No. I never told you how much of a close call the last one was." I remembered him staggering into the hotel room, his thigh slashed open. I remember the gaping wound as I had dragged him to the bathroom, I also remembered the desperate way he had kissed me and…I coloured as my mind drifted to the impromptu encounter in the shower after. 47 saw me blushing and his mouth gave in, stretching into his heart wrenching half smile.

"I can see you remember." I turned away from his penetrating gaze, his words sinking in.

"So what has this got to do with the 'M' word?" I flicked a sideways glance at him, he didn't stop looking at me. There was an uncertainty in his expression that was beginning to unnerve me.

"I'm not sure when, but I know one day I'm not going to come back from a contract." My heart squeezed painfully at the thought.

"Then why don't you just stop, we talked about it after, you know…Why don't you just retire?" He looked away from me finally, staring out at the moving mass of people. We were sat only a few inches apart but I felt him drifting from me suddenly.

"I can't, I tried and I couldn't cope. It's what I was made to do." I gave him a sad look, his hand was a hairbreadth from mine and I desperately wanted to reach out and grab it. I knew he wouldn't like that though, so I curled my fingers in on themselves, resisting the urge. "Marriage gives you and Seren some security if that happens. I know you are good at surviving but I have a considerable estate that would give you both the best life if I'm not around to help anymore." My heart felt light, it swelled as it started to beat just a little too fast. It wasn't exactly what every girl dreams of but I was pretty sure I had understood what he meant in amongst all his pragmatic reasoning.

"I'm sorry, are you actually asking…did you just…propose?" My voice rose several decibels on the last word. 47 simply nodded, his expression solemn. Definitely not your typical romantic scenario, then again we weren't a typical couple. I had to focus on my breathing all of a sudden, as I was currently doing an uncanny impression of a fish. The assassin's usually stoic demeanour suddenly changed to one of concern, as his hand fluttered uncertainly over my back, unsure how to assist with my hyperventilation.

Eventually I got it together and swallowed nervously as I looked into his blue eyes once more. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, obviously waiting for a response. Shaking off the sheer panic I was feeling as best I could I nodded dumbly at him.

"Is that a yes?" I was having a mental war inside, one half of me was floating on the ceiling somewhere, while the other desperately tried to wrestle the elated half back down to earth. I frowned, not sure how to deal with this unexpected situation.

"Are you sure? You've never seemed the husband type if I'm honest." 47 shrugged.

"It won't be that much different, legally you'll be entitled to all my possessions, including the villa in Sicily, in the event of my death." The word made me wince, but he continued unperturbed. "I won't expect you to wear a ring, or change your name. Our relationship won't change from what it is now. It's just a means to an end."

"A marriage of convenience." I muttered, turning away. As much as I hated to admit it I was a tiny bit disappointed, I had been nothing but understanding throughout my entire relationship with the clone assassin. I never pushed him to act like a partner in that sense, if we did anything physical it was purely on his terms, and I was fine with that, I knew he cared for me in his own way and he was wonderful with Seren. I couldn't ask for more, but part of me wanted it. Him proposing had ignited a small hope inside me; obviously I was an idiot for believing it, even for a second.

I saw his eyes flicking over my face, he almost looked nervous. I bit back a laugh at the alien emotion. "Morgan?" He whispered, my stomach doing a small somersault. I bit my lip anxiously, unsure what to do, logically it made sense and was a very sweet gesture, for 47 anyway. However, I was certain I wouldn't be able to manage my expectations to a place where he would be happy. I was likely to get overexcited and ruin the delicate balance we had now.

"Ummmm…yes, it makes sense." He had lowered his head so it was closer to mine, so I could hear his quiet voice as he asked softly.

"But?" I sighed and turned to face the full force of his earnest stare.

"I just don't think it's wise, I mean emotionally I don't think I could cope. I think I'd expect too much of you, if you were…you know…my husband." He straightened up, withdrawing his head slightly. He nodded, and my heart sank. It was the right thing to do, for my sanity, but I was disheartened he had given up so quickly. This is not how I had seen this day panning out.

"I see." He turned away to stare out at the commuters again, I had almost forgotten where we were. My limbs felt heavy as the weight of disappointment pushed down on them. After a moment of awkward silence he reached slowly into his inside pocket and withdrew something small. Out of the corner of my eyes I watched curiously as he placed the something on the bench between us, his large hand covering what it was. Then, like an illegal drop off, he pushed the item closer to me until it nudged against my thigh. I tilted my head a tiny bit to get a clear look of what he was handing me. He lifted his hand to reveal a small, navy blue ring box.

My eyes widened and I stared at it like it was a poisonous snake. I heard him snort at my expression, then he went silent waiting for me to take it. With shaking hands I picked up the velvet-covered box and lifted the lid. Inside was a delicate looking ring. It was silver in colour and had a small but beautiful diamond fixed to it. I felt my eyes sting as my stupid body started to betray me.

"I thought you said no ring?" I whispered, staring at the glittering piece of jewellery. I felt 47 shrug again next to me.

"I know. I wasn't sure if you'd want all that, I bought it in case you turned down the logical offer." I blinked back the tears, confusion clouding my mind. Turning I saw him watching me, his face a careful mask, but his eyes twinkling infinitesimally.

"And what offer is this then?" His mouth turned up into a half smile again, the twinkle becoming more pronounced.

"The romantic one." He chuckled once, a rare but amazing sound. I shook my head, unable to process this out of character behaviour.

"I don't understand…you never…I never expected-" I stuttered, struggling to get the words out.

"I know you never asked me for it, or pressured me Morgan." His smile stretched to cover his whole face, and my heart couldn't handle it. "To be honest, I've been surprised how reserved you've been since we started being physical." I blinked dumbly at him; words didn't seem appropriate anymore. "I came up with the idea of marriage because of the reason I explained before yes, but the more I researched it the more I realised…well, maybe we can give it a go? Maybe I'd like that." The nervous glint in his eyes had returned, "I didn't want to presume it was what you wanted too. That's why I prepared two approaches." Finally I broke out of my stunned dazed and felt my mouth splitting into an ear-to-ear grin, he had planned every angle like he always did.

"Okay, let's 'give it a go'." The uncertainty in his expression faded, leaving a softer look. He gestured towards the ring still held in my hand.

"Put it on then." He said bluntly, I let out a short, breathy laugh at his abruptness. Carefully I took the ring out of its box and slowly slid it on to my ring finger. It felt odd, and it was like I was in a dream as I examined it on my hand. I caught 47 staring down at it too, a wide-eyed expression on his face. I did however detect a hint of smugness that made my insides squeeze.

Gently I placed my hand on the bench between us, looking out at the crowds surrounding us, a distant blur outside out little bubble. The assassin copied me, his hand just inches from mine as we resumed our incognito appearance.

"So I got us another client." I said as if that surreal interaction hadn't happened. I spoke in a level, monotone trying to keep my mouth from involuntarily twitching at the corner.

"Excellent." 47 replied, in an equally cool tone. Then I felt his fingers brush, feather light, against mine, and my heart gave a leap as he grasped my hand in his. His large warm hand covering my slim small one, the ring pressing possessively into my skin.

* * *

"Now we will move on to the contracting words. These words are a binding, legal agreement between the two parties and so must not be entered into lightly." I glanced nervously at the man next to me. He stood still as stone, his expression impassive as always as he looked at the registrar standing behind his desk. His eyes flicked briefly to me without his head moving, and I saw his mouth twitch at the corner. The registrar cleared his throat, dragging my attention back to him. "We will start with the gentleman."

47 gave a quick nod, his attention focused completely on the man in front of us. "Repeat after me." The registrar instructed seriously. "I call upon these persons here present." I felt Charlie shift behind me. My mouth twitched, keeping my eyes forward, remembering the cheeky cockney's grin as I had entered with 47.

"I call upon these persons here present." The assassin's smooth, low voice rang out clearly in the small registry office. I dug my fingernails into my hands as I felt myself beginning to shake with fear. This was it. We were actually doing this.

"That I, Tobias Rieper." I felt my mouth finally twist up into a nervous smirk. We had had a long and lengthy discussion about how to get around 47 not technically having a name, let alone a surname. Finally he had suggested taking on his alias as a legal name, the term he used was poetic, as he reminded me it was the first name I knew him by. I had agreed as long as I could still call him by his real name in private. He had given me a wolfish grin at that remark and the discussion had come to an abrupt end as we tested that theory.

"That I, Tobias Rieper." 47 repeated diligently, this time he gave me a sideways look, assessing my mood. I saw his eyes slip down to my shaking hands, clasped in front of me. I self-consciously pressed them into my red dress, trying to stem the tremors.

"Do take thee, Morgan Gwen Williams." At this he reached out a hand slowly and gently held my trembling arm. I instantly turned the same colour as my dress and his tie.

"Do take thee, Morgan Gwen Williams." Hearing him say my full name in such a serious, reverent way made my cheeks flame harder.

"To be my lawful wedded Wife." The registrar continued in a monotone, not noticing the raging display of hormones I was now becoming.

"To be my lawful wedded Wife." My heart was going like a jackhammer, and I only registered his reassuring squeeze as he finished the binding words. With a barely concealed smirk he turned to look at me properly, his blue eyes burning. I attempted to swallow, knowing I was next but my mouth was like a desert.

"Excellent, now if you'd like to repeat after me Morgan?" I nodded a little too quickly, and heard a supressed chuckle behind us as Victoria held one hand over her mouth whilst the other grasped Seren's. I kept my eyes fixed on the registrar as I stumbled my way through the words, my voice breaking in nervousness a few times. Until finally I took a steadying breath and managed to say somewhat clearly and confidently, "To be my lawful wedded Husband."

"Wonderful, well I'd like to congratulate you both and officially pronounce you Husband and Wife. If your witnesses would like to come forward to sign the register." I let out my breath in a long rush, a giddy sense of relief washing over me. I watched in a daze as Victoria and Charlie walked round to sign the register, both of them gave me an encouraging smile as they sat back down.

I felt 47's hand slid down my arm until he reached my clasped hands; taking one gently he slowly led me round to the other side of the desk to add our signatures to the document. As I gingerly held the pen I couldn't help becoming fixated on the addition to my left hand. The simple silver band glinted in the light, I stared at it afraid it would disappear if I took my eyes off it.

47 added his beautifully neat cursive next to my scratchy signature, I looked at the name realising it was the last time I would write my surname. A distant flash of memory crowded my senses suddenly as I remembered another contract I had signed a long time ago, also surrendering my name. Funny how it had all led to this moment. He straightened up next to me, handing the pen back to the registrar.

"Thank you Mr Rieper, and congratulations." The registrar smiled kindly at us and handed us the completed marriage certificate. Then quietly he left us to our friends. Charlie came over immediately and embraced me.

"Congrats darling. Didn't think he had it in him." He held me at arms length, flashing a grin at 47. The assassin stared back at the former smuggler coolly. Unperturbed Charlie gripped 47's hand and shook it vigorously. "Well done, you're a lucky man 47." I couldn't help grinning at my new Husband's uncomfortable stance, he extracted his hand glancing at me before walking away. Charlie laughed, not offended by 47's cold attitude. "Hopefully being married to you will warm him up a bit."

I blushed slightly provoking a guffaw from Charlie. 47 glanced round sharply at the sound from where he was standing by Victoria, Seren now in his arms. She waved a tiny hand at me enthusiastically, the other clutching the back of her father's suit jacket. I waved back, unable to control my smile at my small, unconventional family.


	5. Wedding Night (M)

**A/N: So this is the last one shot I am going to post for now, I have a few more started but I need to finish them. After that I will write more as the come to me so please be patient. ;) This is another 'M' rated one, so graphic sexual content imminent. So until next time, read, review and enjoy! :)**

* * *

Wedding Night (M)

"Are you okay?"

47's voice broke through my daydreaming as I stared out of the window of the hotel, the night time lights of London stretching out before me like a sea made of stars. I turned slightly to look at him, he was standing in the centre of the large suite, his hands in his pockets, a concerned look in his eyes.

I gave him a small, contented smile and nodded. I watched his shoulders relax at my response and he strode elegantly towards me. His eyes slid up and down me as he stopped a foot away from me, my cheeks responded along with my stomach as I registered the look in his eyes. It was hungry. "Red suits you."

I raised one eyebrow at him, mocking the old line he had used on me when I first wore this dress, "So you've said before." I gave him a seductive smile and winked, his mouth twitched in response. I was still wearing the dress from our ceremony earlier, I had decided to forgo the traditional attire of a bride, instead I had worn the dress 47 had bought me for my first outing in the field. True, I had had my knee broken in it, and shot a man in the head but I remembered the way 47 had looked at me the first time he saw me in it.

"I have a present for you." 47's face stretched into a gut wrenchingly rare smile. "Actually I have two."

"Lucky me." I quipped at him in a cheeky tone. Wordlessly he reached into his suit and produced a flat, rectangular box. I frowned at him as he opened it and lifted something out of it. The silver chain glinted in the soft light of the room, I moved closer to him to see the proffered item. He held it carefully as I ran the chain across my palm, and gasped when the silver pendant slid onto my hand. It was in the shape of a flying bird of prey, the detail etched onto it was stunning. Its eyes were inlaid with two small, perfect sapphires.

I looked up at 47's face, my eyes wide. "It's a peregrine." I whispered. His eyes crinkled as he nodded at me.

"I had it made for you." I ran a tentative finger over the tiny metal bird; it was so realistic.

"It's beautiful." The assassin lifted the necklace free of my hand and unclasping it, held it in the air in front of him. I took the signal and turned, letting him place the delicate chain around my neck. My skin prickled where his knuckles brushed against the nape of my neck as he fastened the necklace in place. I could hear my heart thudding against my ribcage as 47 lingered, his fingers lightly running down the soft skin of my back before stepping away from me. I turned to face my Husband once more, my heart stuttering at the sight of his smouldering expression.

"Yes it is." He said in a low voice. My insides clenched as I stared at the handsome man in front of me, I could barely believe what had happened today. We had got married, and now I was spending my wedding night in a 5 star London hotel with my new Husband. The word still seemed alien to me, I couldn't connect it to the assassin looking at me now with lust in his eyes.

"So…" I placed my hands behind my back and sashayed towards him. He raised an eyebrow at me, provoking a grin to stretch across my face. I stopped a few inches from him, standing on my tiptoes to make myself feel less short. "What's my second present?" 47's smile turned wolfish, making my insides turn to liquid. He languidly took my left hand in his, raising it up so the light glittered off my two rings. He regarded it for a moment, before flicking his burning eyes back to me.

"Seeing as we are keeping with traditions, I thought it appropriate I start getting in the habit of obeying my Wife." A shiver ran up my spine hearing his smooth voice say the word Wife in relation to me. He lifted the hand he was holding to his mouth, keeping his eyes trained on me. A sudden burning desire flared harshly between my thighs as he touched his lips lightly to the rings on my finger.

"In regards to what exactly?" I choked out. He lowered my hand, his expression amused at my flustered state.

"Whatever you want Mrs Rieper." He leant in, his mouth brushing against my ear. "Whatever you want." I nearly collapsed under the strength of his seductive voice. He gripped my shoulders tightly as he felt me wobble in front of him, his breath tickling my ear as he let out a chuckle. "Steady Morgan, it would help if you were conscious."

I took a step back from him, taking in his amused expression. "So you'll do anything I ask?" He tilted his head to the side, his mouth quirking up into a half smile.

"Well for tonight. I may not be able to keep that promise forever knowing you." I grinned at him cheekily as I tapped my chin thoughtfully with one finger. This was a turn of events, 47 usually dictated when we were intimate and I just kind of went along with it, he had never been good with physical contact so I didn't want to push him too far. I revelled in the moment, wandering over to the luxurious double bed and flopping down onto it, crossing my legs as I regarded the assassin watching my exaggerated display.

"Hmmmm, the possibilities are endless." 47 raised one eyebrow at me, his hands slipping back into his suit trouser pockets. "But I think you can start by undressing…slowly." My smile turned wolfish as I stared expectantly at my Husband. He remained still, his cool eyes boring into me. For a minute I thought he had been bluffing and this wasn't going to happen, then slowly he shrugged out of his suit jacket and placed it neatly on the back of a chair in the room. I couldn't help letting out a snort at his inability to just drop the piece of clothing on the floor, fastidious as always.

He returned to his spot in the centre of the room, his eyes locked on me, his mouth twitching at the corner as he reached up and began loosening his tie. My smug expression disappeared as his smouldering look, coupled with the tantalising way he was removing the red material made me grip the bed sheet tightly. He caught the movement of my hands and flashed me a wicked smile, an arrogant look coming over his face as he saw the affect he was having on me. With the tie undone he let it hang around his neck, then deftly undid the top button of his white dress shirt.

I swallowed loudly, my eyes wide as the normally reserved and serious assassin continued his strip tease. He slowly worked his way down the shirt, his muscular chest being exposed bit by bit. His mouth quirked again as I squeezed my legs together, the tension was starting to become too much for me, desire pooled hot and thick between my thighs. Once his shirt was open, he slid the tie off and dropped it nonchalantly on the floor. His eyes never left me as he shrugged out of his shirt, letting it fall in a similar manner. So much for being fastidious. My eyes roamed hungrily over his naked torso, the muscles flexing under his pale, scarred skin.

He was sliding his hands towards his belt buckle when I couldn't take it any longer. "Kiss me." I blurted out suddenly, his eyes widened briefly in response to my outburst, then his cool demeanour returned and he moved towards me. My heart picked up pace as he slowly knelt down in front of me, his face level with mine. He placed his hands flat on the bed either side of my waist and leant towards me. Just before his lips touched mine I saw another smirk pull at the side of his mouth, he was enjoying this I thought, half irritated, half ecstatic. The thought was quickly pushed from my mind as he kissed me, his mouth moving against mine, his tongue gently running over my lower lip. I sighed, melting into him, my hands drifting up to hold his face to me. He was leaning forward, pushing me further towards the bed. I broke away from his mouth, gasping for air, and he took the opportunity to start kissing down my neck, along my collarbone. I saw his mouth turn up into a proper smile as his lips trailed across my chest where he could likely feel my heart hammering to get out.

"Undress me." I whispered hoarsely to him. He looked up at me, his eyes burning. I let out a yelp as in one fluid movement he straightened up, pulling me with him. He held me to his body, and I naturally bowed to fit myself to him. I could feel his arousal against me, and my cheeks flamed in response. He stroked a finger along my face as the colour deepened; I stared up at him my mouth slightly open, trying desperately to get enough oxygen to my brain to think.

"I like it when you blush." He growled; his eyes filling with a hunger that made my knees buckle dangerously again. He kept one hand on my face as the other travelled around my back, I heard the zip being undone and felt my dress suddenly loosen. He pulled it off my shoulders and I let it fall from me, pooling on the floor at my feet. I stared at my Husband as he looked at my bare chest, the hand that was on my face slowly slid down cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb over my nipple. I sighed in pleasure at the feel of his warm rough hand on me, closing my eyes as I felt my nipple hardening under his touch.

"Oh god 47, kiss me again." He didn't need to be told twice, as he grabbed the back of my neck bringing my face to his. This time the kiss was deep and fevered, his breath coming out in short, ragged gasps like mine. He moved us back towards the bed; my legs collided with it before he pushed me back letting us fall together, his body over mine. He continued to kiss me, the weight of him pressing down on me deliciously. He pulled away and I let out a breathy laugh as he began to work down my body again with his mouth, his lips leaving a trail of fire behind them.

Reaching my breasts he paid attention to each one, biting gently on my nipples until I let out a moan at the sharp sensation of pain sending shockwaves of pleasure between my legs. He kept moving lower, nipping at my skin, planting a long lingering kiss on the scar by my stomach. I tilted my head, trying to see his face as he moved lower still, kissing the place between my belly button and my underwear.

"47, what are you-" Before I could finish my question he hooked his fingers into my underwear and pulled it off, tossing it to one side. I couldn't take my eyes off him as moved my legs apart, positioning himself between my thighs. It was then I lost all ability to think straight, I watched in disbelief as 47 moved towards my centre, kissing my inner thigh as he did. My heart was going so fast it was all I could hear, he was actually going to do it. The sensation of his mouth on my most intimate part sent a wave of electricity through me. I threw my head back against the bed, my eyes closed as a gasp of pleasure escaped me. All I could think about was his lips and tongue on me, moving in excruciating ways. I gripped the back of his head with one hand, the other tangling itself in the bed sheet next to me. The heat between my legs began to build, desire curling deep in my abdomen. I could feel the release coming on fast as he continued to make love to me with his mouth.

"Oh god, don't stop." I whimpered as his tongue flicked briefly against my centre. He obliged, intensifying his assault on me. I gripped the bed sheet tighter, craning my neck to look at him again. Just the sight of his head between my legs, his back muscles flexing as he leant over me, made my back arch and cry out in ecstasy. He grabbed my thighs suddenly, pulling me closer to him and burying himself deep in my sex. It was all I needed to push me over the edge and I felt my body shudder in delight as the wave of pleasure washed over me.

47 looked up at the sound of my release, his eyes intense. I gasped, clutching a hand to my thudding chest as I slowly came back down to earth. "Where…did you…learn that?" He moved back up to hover over my face, his eyes shining with amusement as he planted a soft kiss on my lips. I felt my stomach squeeze again as I tasted myself on him, god why was that such a turn on?

"I've been very studious in my research for tonight." I laughed, a high giddy sound as he smirked down at me.

"I can see that, very impressive." I grinned up at him, rubbing his inner thigh with my leg. I felt his arousal pressing into me and smiled as I gently placed my hands on his shoulders, pushing him just enough so he knew what I wanted. He rolled off me, his body laid next to me. I propped myself on one elbow and regarded his naked chest, my finger traced one jagged scar across his stomach. I felt him shiver underneath my touch, my smile widened, now it was my turn.

"Do you trust me?" I asked quietly, as my finger circled a series of bullet wounds on his rib cage. Confusion clouded his face as he watched me silently; finally he raised a hand to touch my cheek.

"Of course." Instantly I moved my hand to his belt and began to unbuckle it.

"Then don't move." I purred at him, as I release his belt and undid his trousers. He lifted his hips briefly to allow me to free him of his suit trousers and boxers. I stripped him of his shoes and socks, discarding his clothes in a pile by mine on the floor. I smirked as I saw his blue eyes regarding me warily as I sat on my heels above him. In all our previous physical encounters he had always been the one in control, but tonight was going to be different. I knew he didn't like being pinned down and I knew I was testing his trust to the limit as I carefully straddled his waist, placing my hands gently on his chest.

Seeing him underneath me made my insides clench wonderfully, he obeyed my instruction to stay still, his hands flat on the bed sheet either side. I could see a wariness in his eyes as I pressed my weight down on his muscular body. Slowly I pushed myself onto him, revelling in the feeling of him inside me. I let out a gasp at the sensation of it, from this position I could feel his whole length like never before, it was amazing. I could tell he felt the same way, as the wariness swiftly disappeared to be replaced by burning desire. I settled myself, letting us grow accustomed to the new experience.

"You okay?" I asked in a breathy rush. The assassin looked up at me, an expression of shock mixed with pleasure, he nodded remaining still. I bit my lip a little as I carefully began to move, using his chest to push myself up, and then slowly lowering back down. The feeling of being in control was intoxicating, my insides started to quicken. I let my hips take over, they moved of their own accord. My breath became ragged once more and I let out a husky moan as I steadily increased the pace.

47 closed his eyes, I smiled as I saw the effect my actions were having on him. He released his own vocalisation of the pleasure he was feeling, my fingers tightened, gripping the flesh of his chest. My senses were on fire as the hot coiling feeling in my lower body began to restrict and increase. I could see his hands holding onto the bed sheet next to him, desperately trying to keep still. An elated giggle shook through my body, making 47's eyes snap back open and lock onto me.

"Hold me…you can…hold me." I panted between movements. Instantly his large, strong hands grasped my waist, his fingers pressing into my soft skin. I gave into him as he dictated the pace, using his grip on me to pull me deeper onto him. I was finding it hard to think at all as the movement grew in ferocity, dragging my nails down his muscular chest as he took back control.

"Jesus, Morgan." I heard him growl through my aroused stupor. Then suddenly he was upright, his face next to mine. Instinctively I wrapped my arms round his neck and back, holding myself to him. He let go of my waist momentarily to gently move my legs from their bent position, so they were stretched out behind him. Then resuming his grip on me he began to move me himself. I moaned, as the feeling of him inside me was too much to take. He rested his forehead lightly against mine as we moved as one, our breath mixing together as we both fought to steady it. I could feel his stomach muscles flexing as he held himself up whilst also moving me, his strength was incredible and I knew I wasn't far away from another orgasm.

I gripped onto him tighter, gasping as a fine sheen of sweat covered my body, my skin prickling with the sensation of his body moving against mine. "Oh god, Morgan, what are you doing to me?" 47's sudden desperate question was all I needed to move me over the edge once more. I cried out as my whole body tensed around him, I felt him growl deep in his chest as he wrapped an arm around my back, pressing my slick skin to him. It only took a few more thrusts before he too let go, groaning my name into my ear. I closed my eyes revelling in the feel of him inside me, surrendering completely. It showed, more than any romantic gesture, how much he trusted me.

He stilled, shuddering once before I felt his muscles relax against me. We stayed in place, listening to each other's hearts slow gradually, our breathing returning to a sensible pace. I laid my head on his broad shoulder and held onto him as he fell back onto the bed. I let out a laugh as he flopped into a horizontal position with me still clinging to him. I pushed off of him to sit up again, beaming down at his calm face.

"So, what did you think? You seemed to enjoy that." I chuckled as he raised an eyebrow languidly at me. A mischievous glint entered his eyes and he grabbed me abruptly, lifting me and dumping me next to him on the bed. I squealed in surprised delight as I bounced once on the mattress. He turned to me, leaning on one elbow as his eyes roamed the length of me.

"I think you enjoyed giving orders a little too much then." I flashed him a cheeky grin, liking this more playful side of him.

"Well, it was a wonderful wedding present…so thank you." I gave him a quick peck on the cheek; he merely gave me a cool stare back. I tried to stifle a yawn as my body suddenly felt weary after the excitement of the day, and the exercise we had just done. 47's mouth pulled up into his familiar half smile and he wrapped an arm round me pulling me to him before moving us both to lie on the pillows at the top of the bed. I wanted to stay awake, certain if I slept this would have all been a dream. But the feel of his arm pulling me into his warm body was making me drowsy, another yawn escaped me and I felt the rumble in the assassin's chest as he chuckled at me.

"Looks like I tired you out." He mused, a hint of smugness in his tone. I frowned, wanting to argue back. I was more than capable of keeping up with him.

"No, its been a long day that's all." My words were partly slurred and he responded by shuffling the bed sheet from under us and pulling it over our still naked bodies.

"If you say so." He responded in a condescending voice. I was about to fight back, my mouth open when he placed his free hand over it to stop me arguing. "Enough talk now, time to sleep Mrs Rieper." I smiled against his palm at the sound of my new name, it still felt surreal to me but hearing him acknowledge it in his perfect, smooth voice was enough to settle my irritated pride.

I closed my eyes, giving in to his bossiness now. He chuckled again, the sound vibrating wondrously against my ear, and planted a kiss on my forehead. Then I let myself succumb to my weariness, drifting into a dreamless sleep in the arms of my new Husband.


	6. The Hunt

**A/N: Hello all, thanks to all who have reviewed and followed so far. I gift you with two Seren centric chapters for your delight. Fancied a bit of shameless fluff so here it is. Just a side note, I am open to suggestions for one shots if any of you have any burning desires for something in particular. Just comment and I will do my best to grant your wishes. Anyway, I'll leave you all to read, review and enjoy! :)**

The Hunt

The farm looked almost the same. Almost. The barn was new. I could tell because the loose board I used to move to sneak in to the back of the hay store wasn't there anymore. Also it smelt new; the clean looking wood unfamiliar under my hand as I ran it along the grain, the scent of sawdust still strong. The house looked the same. I hadn't been able to see much of what happened that night; the night ma had taken me away from the only place I had known. But I did remember the house being untouched in the frightening chaos, a solid, comforting landmark in the middle of the fire and blood as I was dragged away.

I looked around at the hills and rolling green fields. The familiar places I had grown up with, my home. A giddy lightness filled my chest as I walked around the yard. The only thing missing was the friendly barking of my old friend Gelert. The lightness dropped, filling my chest with an aching sadness as I remembered his last moments. Defending us against that scary girl. The one that had tried to kill ma.

"Wyt ti'n iawn cariad?" _Are you okay sweetheart?_ Ma's voice broke through my sorrow. She was stood in the doorway of the farm house, a large cardboard box clutched in her hands. I realised I had come to a stop in the middle of the farm yard. I gave her a smile that was hard to keep straight before moving off to the stables. Her eyes bored into the back of my head as I walked away, I knew she was worried about me. She had talked almost constantly on the plane ride over from Sicily.

Pulling my coat closer around myself I ignored my ma's concerned gaze. It was colder here than my other home. I had grown accustomed to the dry heat of the small village where Dad's house was. The harsh biting wind was a shock to the system but I had spent far longer in the grey shrouds of the mountains than the gentle, salty breeze of the Mediterranean.

It had taken a whole year for the farm to be rebuilt. A year of us living in a different country and learning a different language. I had been sad to leave behind Maria and Phillipe and all my other friends, but ma had reassured me we would go back there now and again. But this was our home. It just felt empty without Gelert or Uncle Rudy, and Dad was away on business, so it was just me and ma.

The low whicker of a horse snapped me out of my thoughts and with a delighted laugh I bounded up to the stall, bouncing up on my feet to peer over into the dark stable. A large black shadow detached itself from the gloom and moved towards me. The large flash of white down its long face the only marker that this was indeed a horse not a horrible shadow creature.

"Toby." I cried joyfully as the black stallion stuck his nose into my face, sniffing loudly. Pulling my fringe off my forehead into his cavernous nostrils. I giggled at the over friendly creature, thankful for at least one more familiar face in my old home. Ma had told me the people who had been fixing the farm had found him running wild on the hills nearby. His tack gone and his coat so overgrown they had struggled to determine what he was at first. I had been happy to hear my ma's horse was safe and not lost, or worse dead, somewhere in the forest surrounding our farm. There had been a few times I had woke up crying as images of my Uncle, Gelert and Tobias had haunted me in my dreams.

"Did you miss us?" I asked, rubbing the velvety muzzle of the horse. Another low rumble shook through him as he pressed his nose firmly into my palm. I must have been there for a while as the light was beginning to fade when my ma came looking for me. Her face anxious and her arms finally free of boxes.

"There you are. Come inside now Seren and leave poor Tobias alone. You can say hello again tomorrow." I didn't want to leave the comforting smell and sounds of Tobias's stable, sure that I would miss my Uncle too much once inside the farm house with just the two of us. But my ma's voice was the one she used when arguing wasn't an option, so reluctantly I gave the stallion one last pat before turning and following her in.

I had been right. It felt hollow and not right as I sat in the living room, the fire crackling as ma unpacked one of the boxes containing our things. The house felt tense, as if holding its breath. Just waiting for my old, grey faced Uncle to come in and shuck off his boots. His low, melodious voice complaining about the weather or how the sheep were doing or those damn Evans' wreaking havoc again on the boundary. I shifted on the well-worn sofa, my eyes fixed on the empty armchair he had always sat in by the fire.

Ma noticed my mood and kept flicking worried glances at me. I hated it when she did that, it made me feel exposed. She usually reserved them for when I was doing something odd, the sort of thing that made her eyebrows pull down and mouth to grow thin. The sort of thing that Dad told me not to do again where she could see me. But now I was just sat still, staring at my Uncle's chair. Was this odd? I still struggled to tell the difference.

She let out a long sigh and stood up from her kneeling position. My eyes slid to her with the movement and she gave me a bright smile. It didn't reach her eyes. Maybe she was finding this as hard as me. "I think I'm done here, what do you want to do cariad? You want to play a game?" Suddenly I felt very weary. The journey had been long and I had spent most of it missing my friends back in Sicily and then missing the ones I would never see again here. My head sagged slightly as I mumbled into my chest.

"I think I'd like to go to bed." Ma's face fell, and I almost changed my mind so strong was the guilt that shot through my heart. But the thought of sitting in that room any longer, pretending everything was okay whilst the house groaned from the absence of those we had lost, it was enough to make me ignore my mother's disappointment. I got up slowly and began the familiar trip to my old bedroom. As I reached the bottom of the stairs ma called out to me, her voice thin and strained. Like an elastic band pulled too tight.

"Do you want me to read to you?" She asked, and I tried not to think about her expression as I shook my head and muttered a firm, "No." Before quickly taking the stairs two at a time and shutting myself in the room I had last slept in as a very different girl.

* * *

I woke early. Too anxious to sleep anymore. My dreams had been vivid and unpleasant. A few times I had woken with my cheeks damp from tears. I had thought coming home would have been good but the longer I was here the more I missed Sicily. It had been two weeks since we had first moved in and the atmosphere in the house had not improved.

Ma tried her best to talk to me and do the things we had done here before, but in truth since seeing the outside world I was more aware of how alone I was here. I spent most of my time with Tobias or the sheep when they were in and ma resumed her duties around the farm. Now she was doing the job of two people I didn't see her much in the day. She had told me Victoria would be coming soon to help out and my spirits had lifted for a short time before the sombre air of the whole place had dragged me back down. I knew it was upsetting my mother but I couldn't bring myself to care.

The dawn light had only just begun to touch the horizon as I stepped lightly downstairs. I knew I was awake before ma, she got up early to feed the sheep but it was usually when the sun had turned the inky black of night into the dull iron grey of the morning. At this hour a normal person would still need to turn on a light to see, but I wasn't normal. No matter how much ma wanted me to be.

I reached the kitchen and automatically began to get myself a glass of milk. It was right about when I was extending my hand to open the fridge when I sensed another presence in the room. Without thinking I span around and fixed the intruder with a piercing stare as the rest of me scanned my surroundings for escape routes and likely objects to defend myself with.

I had only had a few lessons with my father whilst living in Sicily but they had all focused on getting myself out of dangerous situations, without drawing attention to myself or my abilities. "Don't move as fast." He had instructed as I evaded an attempt to grab me. "People will suspect you are not what you appear."

I narrowed my eyes at the shape in my kitchen now, thinking through how best to deal with them. Then the voice from my lessons spoke sending an electric jolt through my spine, making me stand straighter on instinct. "You took too long to sense me. I could have easily killed you then."

He stepped forward so I could better see his face, his icy blue eyes staring at me until I felt the need to lower my gaze.

"Why are you here? Ma said you weren't back for another month." My voice sounded small in the quiet kitchen. He stood, silently regarding me for a moment before replying in a matter of fact tone.

"Your mother called me." I frowned at my feet. Why would she call him back? Without another word he turned and walked to the back door.

"Get dressed. We are going out." He said simply. I looked up at my father, confused and still shocked at his unexpected arrival.

"Where are we going?" I regretted asking as soon as the words were out of my mouth. His eyes turned hard and unforgiving as he looked at me.

"No more talking. Get dressed now. I'll wait for you outside." With that he left through the back door leaving me alone in the dark kitchen. I got dressed soundlessly as he had asked. I was still unclear what he was doing here and why ma had called him but I knew when not to try his patience. As fast as I could manage I was back in the kitchen and quietly opening the back door, slipping out into the cold, dark morning.

He was stood by the store shed, his eyes able to pin me even from that distance. I noticed he was wearing his usual suit and red tie. He looked funny and out of place in the middle of the muddy farm yard. Although the way his stern face was watching me I didn't feel much like laughing.

"What are we doing?" I asked in a hushed voice. The darkness making me want to stay quiet.

"We are going hunting." He replied. My confusion deepened as I looked around the near pitch black farm. The barest hint of grey just forming on the horizon. Before I could question his decision to hunt in these conditions, he handed me one of ma's hunting knives. I took it gingerly, unsure whether ma would like me taking it but then I remembered who I was with and quickly stowed it on my belt. He gave me a cool eyed stare then began striding off into the gloom, away from the farm. I felt apprehension creep through me and for a minute all I wanted to do was turn and go back to the safety of my bedroom. Then the nightmares that drove me out in the first place surfaced in my mind and I warily follow him up the hill surrounding the farm.

We walked in stony silence. My short legs having to work twice as hard as his long ones. He didn't elaborate on his reason for being here on the five mile walk to the forest and I knew better than to ask him when he was in this mood. The sky was turning the dull grey that meant ma would be getting up soon when we reached the forest edge. He paused, looking down at me with a serious expression.

"Today's lesson is about patience and perseverance." I frowned as I tilted my head to better see his face. "If you want to reach your goal you must have absolute control over your emotions and understand how they can affect the environment around you." Finishing his cryptic summary my father walked into the trees, expecting me to follow. I did.

We walked together through the undergrowth in absolute silence. Both of us easily placing our feet so as to not rustle the dead leaves and twigs. It was one of those talents I had never had to learn. Even when ma had managed to make her footsteps in the forest almost perfect when it came to stealth, I had always known how to move in such a way as to never be detected. It had proven handy in those months where I had seen more of the world than I had in my first six years.

He let me take the lead, allowing me to track the signs of deer in the woods. I knew little about what had happened to the forest the day we left but there were still great patches of nothing in amongst the dense leaves. Areas were no trees grew and splintered trunks dotted the clearing. There were also huge craters gouged from the dirt as if a giant shovel had lifted great clods of the earth and deposited them elsewhere. Whatever had happened here would take years to erase.

We were passing through one of the clearings when I spotted fresh tracks not minutes old, and automatically sank into a crouch. I heard him stop a few paces behind me although he didn't crouch down with me. Instead I felt his cold eyes scratching at the back of my head. He still hadn't told me his motives for bringing me out here to hunt deer, when ma barely went herself nowadays, but I was sure it had something to do with the way I had been behaving lately. But why would he care?

I moved slowly through the undergrowth, keeping my eyes on the space between the trees for signs of movement. All the while his eyes followed my progress. I found the first deer within minutes, grazing in the early dawn. But my reluctance at killing the animal for no reason and my confusion at this whole bizarre affair made me miscalculate my move, sending it bounding off into the forest.

The second took another few minutes but this time I didn't account for the meagre breeze in amongst the trees and my scent was blown towards the skittish animal. I let out a curse in Italian that my friend Phillipe had taught me, earning me a particularly chilling stare from my father. After the third deer and third failed attempt I felt a firm hand grip my upper arm as I tried to move off.

"Enough. You are not doing what I told you." His voice was loud in the silence we had held since entering the forest. I straightened up and couldn't help glaring at him in frustrated anger.

"I am." I said, my voice filled with annoyance. I was holding ma's hunting knife in one hand and it began to shake with my bottled up fury and misery from the past few weeks. "Why are we out here? Why are you doing this to me? I just want to be left alone." The words tumbled out like a torrent and to my shame I felt them wobble with emotion as my eyes stung with angry tears. But my father looked on with indifference, his eyes only hardening as he listened to me.

"No." He finally said. One staccato word that stopped me in my tracks. I blinked up at him, the tears blurring my vision.

"No?" I warbled.

"No. You will not be left alone." His face was like granite. Impenetrable and unforgiving. I felt my lip begin to shake, my bed becoming more inviting and seemingly worlds away at this moment. "You will do as I say or we will not return to the house."

Despite my best efforts the tears spilled over, falling down my cold cheeks. It was like a flood gate opening; one minute I was numb and unfeeling, drifting through this whole test as if in a dream, the next I a tidal wave of grief, confusion and anger at both of my parents broke through. "Good! I don't want to go back." My sudden anger didn't even raise a twitch in his expression.

"You mother called me back because she was concerned with how you've been acting. This is your home Seren, why are you so unhappy here?" His voice was still icy but I could hear the note of confusion in it. _Oh,_ I thought, was this my father's way of finding out what was wrong with me?

I looked down at the hunting knife still gripped in my hand and then back up at him. "It's sad here. Without Gelert or Uncle Rudy. With everything that happened, it just doesn't feel…right anymore. It doesn't feel like home." The anger had leaked from my voice and I felt my muscles relax as I finally voiced why I was so ill at ease here. I had kept it from ma thinking it was better that way but obviously my sullen mood had freaked her out enough to call in the big guns. Literally. And now we were stood in the middle of a dark forest, with a hunting knife and him looking down at me with an almost bewildered expression on his face.

"I…see." He said haltingly. Then his expression softened; not a lot, but enough to go from granite to sandstone. I wasn't sure he did see, but he already looked more like my father and less like the man he had been before.

"Let's keep going." He said. My heart sank a little at the definitive end he brought to the conversation, but then again I wasn't sure I really wanted to talk about it anyway. Nothing I said would bring them back.

With a listless nod I turned back to the tracks I had been following and began my hunt again. This time I found it easier. Releasing all my pent up emotions had brought a stillness inside of me. Stalking my prey and finding the best approach was simpler, more natural. I had located the deer within moments and found the perfect vantage point for a clean kill. I could feel his eyes on me as I readied my hunting knife and took a steadying breath, waiting for my opening. The deer continued grazing, oblivious to my presence above it.

A tight knot of guilt formed in my chest. We didn't need this deer, I had been secretly relieved the first three times when I had missed. I had only killed once in my life and it had alarmed me how easily I had done it. Going numb inside and letting my instincts take over. I could feel it happening now, a creeping cold that called me to move my muscles. A well of blackness that held no feeling or remorse in what I was about to do. Now that my emotions weren't clouding my mind I could sense it more clearly and it scared me. The deer moved a few paces and I felt myself tense. Ready to leap at the creatures exposed throat. But right at the last minute I gained control and willed myself to stay still, to not strike and the animal passed by unharmed.

I tensed, waiting for my father's scolding, but none came. Instead I felt a steady hand on my shoulder, and his voice was soft in the early morning gloom.

"Well done. You controlled your emotions perfectly." I looked up at him, my heartrate returning to normal after the internal struggle I had just won.

"I thought you wanted me to kill it?" I asked, confusion colouring my voice. He gave me a blank stare, then shook his head.

"No. I never said I wanted you to kill the deer." I frowned, trying to think back on his vague briefing. Then I understood; he had wanted to make sure I wasn't allowing my base instincts to control me. To make sure I wasn't losing myself in my misery. I gave him a sad look, my eyes turning blurry again.

"Does that mean we go back now?" I asked, in two minds whether I actually wanted to. Being out in the forest, I felt unburdened and free.

He narrowed his eyes at me then did something I didn't expect, he knelt in front of me and gripped both my shoulders in firm but gentle hands. "Listen cariad. I know it's hard to forget those you've lost, they leave impressions behind that are difficult to erase. But your mother is worried about you…and so am I." He let his let his head drop so I could see the strange tattoo on the back of it. "I am sorry Seren." His voice wasn't the stable, cold monotone I was used to. It quivered with emotion. My gut twisted in apprehension as my father continued. "I'm sorry I'm not here enough. This is all new for me but I promise I will do better."

Slowly he lifted his head to fix me with sincere eyes. I believed him and the knot in my gut gradually released as I gave him a small smile.

"I forgive you." His eyes softened further until the corner of his mouth lifted up into a half smile of his own.

Ma was on the porch step when we returned. Her eyes grew large as she took in my father dressed in his smart suit, twigs and leaves clinging to the expensive material. They shared a brief but meaningful look and she didn't say anything as she turned to smile at me. Her eyes wary.

"Breakfast is ready cariad." The strained note that had been in it whenever she talked to me was there and I felt guilt wash through me. Without saying anything I ran at her and hug her waist, burying my face in her familiar smell. There was a pause before her arms wrapped round me in a grateful embrace.

* * *

He stayed for a whole week. I couldn't remember the last time he had stayed so long. It was still hard, being in the house but it felt better with him there. We felt more like a family. And even though I knew it couldn't last and that we weren't like other families, it was still…nice.

It was on the seventh day that I came in from helping with the sheep to find a mysterious cardboard box in the middle of the room. Ma was following behind me and I heard her pause in the doorway.

"What's that?" She asked. He gave her a look and I heard her huff in annoyance; then he looked at me.

"It's for you." He said, and suddenly the mystery of a hidden gift made me bounce on the spot in excitement. I was just about to leap on my present with glee when it wiggled and let out a muffled bark.

My heart felt like it would burst as I gave him an ecstatic smile. "Really?" I heard ma grumble behind me, but I ignored her as I was already ripping the lid of the box to reveal an equally excited puppy inside.

It was a black and white sheepdog, a border collie, and it scrambled eagerly out of its container to jump into my arms. I laughed loudly as it liked my face.

"It's a working dog, to help on the farm." I vaguely heard Dad say, but I was laughing far too hard to care.

"Sure it is." Ma retorted, sarcasm dripping from her words. "What is it?" She followed up .

"A boy."

"Okay. I suppose I could use the help with the herds. You can train him Seren." At this I looked up at my mother, her expression was serious but there was the tell-tale glint of amusement in her eyes.

"I will ma." I crowed, the puppy now trying to climb on my head in its enthusiasm.

"And he'll need a name." She said, the seriousness melting away quicker with every giggle I let out. I held my new friend away for a moment, trying to think.

"Bran." I finally exclaimed and the puppy barked in agreement.

"Bran it is." Ma said and I hugged him to my chest, being careful not to hurt him. I continued to play with Bran as ma moved around to sit on the sofa.

"A dog huh?" I heard her murmur to my father. He gave a small shrug in response before going to sit in Uncle Rudy's old armchair. And for the first time since returning the farm house felt like home again.


	7. Snow

Snow

I could feel the change in the atmosphere as soon as I woke up. The air felt dense and there was an unusual silence, as if everything was holding its breath. It only took a second for me to reach full consciousness; I was aware of the contrast between the coldness on my face and the still unfamiliar warmth of the person sleeping soundly in my arms.

Morgan was breathing softly, her form relaxed against me, her back pressing into my chest. She was curled into a ball; her hands tucked under her head, it made her look smaller than she really was and I reflexively tightened my embrace on her. She moaned quietly as I laid my head nearer to her, inhaling the comforting scent of her hair. It was only recently I had taken to staying in bed a little longer after waking up; ordinarily I would get up as soon as my eyes were open and begin my morning routine. But I had found that motivation harder and harder to muster the more I became accustomed to Morgan's presence next to me. I listened to the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing as I cleared my head, simply feeling my wife in her most vulnerable state safe in my arms.

It still felt odd calling Morgan that; even though by law we were husband and wife, I had never pictured myself in this setting. True, I insisted on completing freelance contracts when they were interesting or I could feel the itch growing from staying still for too long. But in between those moments of violent normality I found myself easing into the role of father and husband all too easily. Maybe I was human after all.

The calm was broken by the sound of light footsteps advancing on our bedroom. I didn't react as the door slowly swung open, a slightly tousled Seren standing in its frame. She saw me watching her and flashed me an excited grin as she tiptoed towards the bed, zeroing in on her sleeping mother. She put her face close to Morgan's, the grin still fixed in place.

"Ma." I felt Morgan stir in my arms, her body climbing out of sleep. She let out a groggy groan and then registered Seren's face inches away from hers.

"Huayyyah!" Automatically I clasped her to me as I felt all the muscles in her body tense at once, preparing to lash out at the sudden intruder. She struggled for a second before realising where she was and who had spoken. "Jeeeeesus Seren. What's the matter?"

The dark haired girl seemed un-phased by her mother's dramatic awakening and simply giggled as Morgan attempted to sit upright only to be impeded by my arm. Twisting, she stared up at me blearily, my mouth twitched at the corners as her brown eyes widened at my proximity to her. Even after over a year of living together, getting married and our tentative explorations into intimacy, she still looked surprised when I showed affection.

"It's snowed, there's snow." Seren was bouncing joyously next to the bed, her small hands clenched into fists. I gently lifted my arm off of Morgan as she continued to process what was going on.

"I thought your Dad was going to be the death of me one day, but apparently it's you I need to worry about." She muttered, her expression losing the last fuzzy remnants of sleep. I shifted back, giving her space to stretch and rub her eyes. "Snow eh?"

Seren was almost taking off now, her adrenaline was palpable even from a distance. "Yes, alla i fynd y tu allan?" _Can I go outside._

"Wait, let us get ready first and we'll all go." Seren's bottom lip jutted out in protest, but she knew when to push her mother and having just been rudely awoken she wisely conceded now was not one of those times. I watched with mild amusement as she slipped quietly out of the bedroom, her tiny feet accelerating away once safely in the corridor.

"Morning." I murmured, unsure whether Morgan was about to turn her wrath on me. She turned to look at me again, her brown eyes softening as I stared down at her.

"Morning handsome." She grinned cheekily. I raised an eyebrow at her suggestive tone and her grin widened.

"I don't think Seren would be very happy if we delayed her any further." I said, in an even voice. Morgan pouted, jutting her bottom lip out in a dramatic display of disappointment similar to her daughter's, but when my sceptical look grew she burst out into delightful peals of laughter.

"I suppose you're right. Later then." She said, raising herself up on her elbows to give me a quick peck. I fixed her with my eyes, making her freeze as she pulled away from my face, her brown eyes softening under my burning gaze.

"Later." I murmured against her lips, a dark promise in my words. She shivered, the excitement palpable between us and I almost forgot my reason for saying no, when a small voice shouted up the stairs. "Come on, get up! I can't hear you getting ready."

Morgan smiled, rolling her eyes in an affectionate way before flinging the duvet off of her and swinging her legs out of bed. I watched her flit around the bedroom for a moment, enjoying the way she looked contented and slightly rumpled, gathering her clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. With a barely audible sigh I followed suit and quickly got ready, lest my eager daughter decided to drag us both out into the snow half naked.

* * *

The farm looked like a different world. It had always fascinated me how the simple phenomenon of frozen water could completely change an environment, making the familiar surroundings of home look like a foreign place. It was like the farm had donned a disguise, choosing to hide from the rest of the world. It offered little in the way of enjoyment for me. I only saw the potential for evidence; footprints, drag marks and the contrasting stain of red as blood seeped into the virgin snow.

Seren shrieked as she squeezed between my stationary legs and the doorframe, tumbling out into the freezing wonderland beyond. I gave her a disapproving look, not quite done with my routine assessment of the area that I always insisted on doing when with my family. A habit which Seren flagrantly mocked me for and ignored. I felt the frigid air shift as Morgan moved to stand by me in the kitchen doorway, wafting the warm atmosphere of the farm house out with her as she did.

As much as Seren didn't feel checking our surroundings was warranted, or at all practical when there were things like snow to deal with, I knew my wife had a quiet respect for my neuroticism. She had seen and experienced enough of our former life to know that you could never be too careful, especially when it came to the things you cared the most about.

I felt her shift against my arm, the pair of us watching Seren but completely aware of each other at the same time. The small girl was dashing around the farm yard, arms outstretched as she tried to catch the still falling snow swirling around her dark brown hair. She looked surreal, her pale skin almost matching the pure white scenery, her blue eyes standing out like two shards of ice. Sometimes it worried me how much she looked like me, that maybe there was too much of myself in her and that her life could only ever go one way. Then she would smile or say some sharp witted comment and all the similarities between us would melt away to reveal her mother's likeness underneath. Like a snowdrop pushing through the spring melt.

"Everything good?" Morgan asked eventually, her breath puffing out in a misty cloud in front of her as she spoke. I let my eyes sweep over the snowy vista again, taking in the silent, dark outbuildings and undulating hills rising around the homestead in a protective ring. Once satisfied I gave a small nod, and saw Morgan's mouth lift up in my peripheral vision. "Excellent. Shall we?" She asked, gesturing for me to step out of the doorway.

With long, confident strides I stepped off the porch step and into the thick blanket of snow, making my way through the uneven texture to the happy girl in the middle of the yard. Her high, joyous cries had now been joined by the excited barks of Bran, Seren's sheepdog. He bounded around Seren, every now and then jumping up at her undefended face to deliver furtive licks to her rosy cheeks. This only provoked her to laugh louder and chase the dog in a frantic game of tag.

I stopped in the centre of the yard and turned to watch Morgan shut the door behind her, stamping her feet in her boots as she trudged towards me with a smile. Seren and Bran were now using me as a centre point for their chaotic game, racing around me in a blur of black and white fur, and red overcoat.

"You're going to tire yourself out before we've been anywhere cariad." Morgan half-heatedly admonished, her eyes following the girl. A twinkle in her eye as she surveyed her daughter's joy. This was her favourite time, when Seren was behaving as all seven year old girls should. I had become more perceptive to the tightening in her jaw, or the worried pull of her eyebrows when her daughter exhibited more…unnatural tendencies. It was why I had taken to conducting Seren's lessons in self-control and survival away from the fretting eyes of her mother.

Seren stopped abruptly, Bran still dancing around her, trying to get the girl's attention. "I'm fine ma. I don't get tired." And there it was; Morgan's eyes hardened and the soft smile she had been wearing became fixed.

"I know…let's go feed the sheep and then we can play ok?" I gave my wife a concerned look as Seren eagerly bounded off towards the barn, carving a path in the thick layer of snow. Morgan glanced at me, her expression still tense but before I could reassure her the look past and she tucked her arm into mine, leaning her head on my shoulder.

"Would you mind helping too husband?" She asked in a saccharine sweet tone. I looked down at her face peeking out from under a ridiculously woolly hat. Her cheeks and nose were flushed pink, and snowflakes had caught in her long lashes which she batted at me in an exaggerated fashion. Her smile turning into the signature grin she reserved for when she was teasing me.

"I suppose so." I quipped back, earning me a carefree laugh. I don't know why she found me so funny, or what I did to provoke those kind of reactions, but I was becoming more and more thankful I did. The sound of her laugh was unusually pleasing to me.

We followed Seren to the barn, arm in arm, and began our daily chores of tending to the large flock of sheep Morgan had managed to rescue after the destruction of the farm. I found the routine of it comforting. It gave my hands something to do and it was a peaceful kind of labour. One in which I could create something instead of destroying it. I supposed that was why I enjoyed gardening so much, and I had made the small garden attached to the house my own paradise for vegetables and herbs. They were all covered now, to protect them from Wales' harsh winters, so busying myself with the sheep and general maintenance had become my new hobby.

Seren dashed through her assigned tasks, and a few times I had to stop her and make her redo something. She threw a few scowls my way at this, likely storing away my interference for later when she would have a few snowballs in hand. I didn't care, she would have to be very determined to hit me, I would make sure of it.

"Done! Can we go to the grove ma?" Seren stood hopping from one foot to the other in the barn door. Her blue eyes wide with impatience as Morgan straightened up from the feed trough she was filling and fixed her daughter with a stern stare.

"Have you done everything?" She asked, her hands now on her hips in a very motherly gesture. Seren's head bobbed rapidly.

"Yes, yes. I did everything and Dad made me do the bedding _twice_." She flashed me another scowl at this reminder.

"If you'd done it right the first time, you wouldn't have had to do it again." I explained pragmatically. The scowl deepened.

Morgan let out a sigh at the familiar scene playing out in front of her. "The grove it is then." She stated, bringing an end to our stubborn staring contest. Seren let out an excited yip and disappeared outside again. Bran's barking started up as soon as his playmate returned and Morgan gave me an amused look as I stared sullenly after my tempestuous daughter.

* * *

The grove was a small group of silver birch trees gathered on a hill in one of the eastern fields. It was where Seren and I had first met, and had now become a favourite play spot for her and my chosen location when teaching her. The snow had drifted in from the surrounding field, turning the bare branches and patchy dirt ground into the perfect place to build snowmen, make snow angels and most importantly for Seren start snowball fights.

She had latched herself onto my hand on the walk here. Chatting away with me and Morgan, and commenting on the coldness of the snow. Her vendetta with me had appeared forgotten, until we had reached the grove and she had immediately let go of me, darting off into the widely spread tree trunks. It had been several moments later, whilst I was walking with Morgan in companionable silence, when I had felt the distinct tingle of eyes on the back of my head. The next thing I knew the air shifted behind me, signally a projectile had been launched. In a flash I had ducked to the side, grabbing Morgan and taking her with me, shielding her against a nearby tree as my eyes tried to locate the threat.

A wet thud broke the tense silence and my eyes drifted over to see the remnants of a snowball sliding down a neighbouring trunk. Morgan, who had been looking around in confusion, let out a loud snort, covering her mouth with a gloved hand as she took in my tense stance.

"I think you saved me. Thank you 47." She spluttered. My eyes narrowed as I searched for the attacker. She didn't emerge from her hiding place, but I heard her stifled giggle coming from behind some trees a way off. A small tap on my arm drew my attention back to the woman pinned against the tree trunk by my body. "Ummm, do you think it's safe now." Morgan's voice wobbled with mirth, and she struggled to bite back a smile. My expression hardened as I slowly released her from the cage of my arms and I sank down into a crouch, scooping up snow into my hands.

"No. You would do well to find some cover. This could get messy." My voice was low and deadly, and I heard a high pitched shriek of delight as Seren saw me preparing for battle from her viewpoint. Morgan let out another snort laugh and crouched down with me.

"Have you located the target?" She asked, trying to inject something resembling seriousness into her voice but failing.

"I have." I replied, packing the snow in my hands into a tight ball. "And it appears they are highly skilled in the art of stealth." Another burst of giggling broke out, now several paces to the left of where Seren had last been.

"Are you sure? Because my intel suggests the target is a notorious giggler with a tendency to eavesdrop and _eat all the damn biscuits in the house!_ " Morgan shouted the last point, her mouth stretched into a wide smile.

"Hey!" A small voice piped up somewhere to my left, "I do not eat them all." My eyes caught a flash of red and instantly my arm whipped back and launched the snowball I was holding at my target. It connected with a satisfying thump and the answering huff told me I had hit a bulls eye. Before we could celebrate however a returning shot was fired, whistling past my left ear.

"Careful 47. The target is armed." Morgan said in a voice I only usually heard in my head. I cast her a sideways look, my chest tightening as I took in her mock serious face, the gleam of excited joy evident in her deep brown eyes.

"Understood." I murmured back and straightened up slightly to creep towards the sound of hurried light footsteps dashing over the hard packed snow. Morgan kept close behind me, her own snowball now in her hand. We moved together through the trees, she my shadow as we crept up on our mischievous daughter. The footsteps stopped as too did we, I signalled to Morgan to go right as I crept left. There was another muffled snigger as I came to a stop, motioning for Morgan to do the same. She had a bright grin on her face as together we lifted our snowballs and threw them at the sniggering bush.

"Ow!" The bush exclaimed and Seren's head popped out of the top of it. An indignant scowl on her face along with half the snowball which I had thrown. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch up at the sight of the slush trickling down her furious little expression.

"Target down 47, well done." Morgan remarked with a cheeky wink at me.

"This isn't fair. You're ganging up on me." Seren said, her bottom lip jutting out again.

"The odds are not always in our favour Seren, consider this a lesson." I said, a playful note to my voice as I raised another snowball, bouncing it in the palm of my hand. Morgan laughed but the girl's light blue eyes darkened to the colour of storm clouds. Her jaw tensed and suddenly her resemblance to me was striking. I knew that look.

My mouth twisted into a wry smile watching Seren sink into a predatory crouch. Morgan's laughter faded away as she sensed the change in the atmosphere, a disapproving frown just crossing her face when Seren made the first move.

She was always faster than I remembered. Gone in a flash, darting off across the snow. I was only stationary for a moment; giving Morgan a reassuring smile which made her catch her breath in surprise, I moved off after her making hardly a sound on the glistening snow. Seren was fast, but she was also sloppy. I could still hear her boots hitting the snow even though she was barely leaving a footprint behind her. Scooping up more snow I made some more projectiles and quickly overtook the girl, cutting off her escape.

Stepping out from behind a tree I loomed over her, she skidded to a halt, surprise etched on her face. In a panic she launched a snowball at me but I easily avoided it, throwing my own and hitting her in the stomach. She didn't utter a sound this time. The laughter was gone, her gaze intense as she about faced and scampered off into the trees. She wanted to take this seriously did she? Well, I could arrange that.

Twelve more times I hit her and not one of her snowballs found their mark. Her frustration and anger at me were making her less accurate but she would have to learn that for herself, for I was finding too much enjoyment in watching her flushed, agitated expression every time I bested her. At one point I saw Morgan leaning against a tree watching us with a raised eyebrow. I was certain she would reprimand me for this, but I would inform her that it was Seren who started it.

I was following Seren's position after another failed attempt on her part, and was just wondering when she would tire of this, when I realised I could no longer hear her footsteps on the snow. I tensed, the small smirk on my face vanishing as I strained to hear the girl. The wind whistled gently through the trees, moving small clouds of snow around. The silence pressed in, eerie after the excited cries and then constant patter of Seren. My eyes narrowed as I scanned the environment. There was no sign of movement.

I glanced over at Morgan who was also looking in confusion around her. Suddenly a sense of panic started to take hold deep inside me. Had something happened to Seren? I kept low as I moved to where I had last heard her, keeping my eyes open for any danger now, not just the snowball wielding child kind. I reached the place I had last pin pointed her and found an empty hiding spot. The panic tightened in my gut as I whipped my head around. Nothing.

I moved on, unsure of where I was headed now. The snowball still held loosely in my hand. I had taken three steps when I heard the crunch of snow under a foot. In an instant I had turned to face my assailant, my weapon held aloft but found only empty space. Then with a resounding smack a hard, wet and most notably cold object made contact with the back of my head. In disbelief I whirled on the spot only to find nothing again. I listened and still nothing. My teeth clamped down on each other as I slowly swivelled on the spot, assessing every tree and bush. Only when I had turned full circle did I see my daughter standing bare foot in the snow, a wide, triumphant grin on her face as she raised her hand and threw her snowball directly into my face.

* * *

"You've got to admit, that was a clever move." Morgan said. Placing her cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table, she gave me a sly look, her mouth turning up into a cheeky smile.

"It was." I admitted reluctantly, staring up at my wife from where I was sat. She regarded me with a pitying expression.

"You got her far more than she got you, and yet your sulking over two measly snowballs."

"I am _not_ sulking." I said, giving Morgan a warning look. But she wasn't unnerved by me anymore and simply let out a laugh at an expression that would have most men shaking.

"Could have fooled me darling." She shot back. I rolled my eyes and looked away from her, finding her current mood infuriating. Morgan snorted then did the only thing she knew would get my attention. She moved towards me and straddled my lap, folding her arms behind my neck. My head snapped back round to find her face inches from my own. The sudden sensation of being trapped made me feel alarmed and excited at the same time. She knew I didn't like being pinned down…only by her.

"So did you enjoy your first snow day with us? Or is your pride still hurting?" She said in a low voice, her brown eyes not letting mine go.

"It was…enlightening." She threw her head back and made a disgusted noise.

"Come on 47. You can do better than that. I saw you enjoying yourself." She leant her head down so our foreheads were touching. Almost instinctually I closed my eyes, breathing in the smell of her. She smelt of hay and cold and Morgan. I could feel myself getting light headed from it all.

She let out a low hum of appreciation and when I opened my eyes to look at her, I saw hers were also closed. " _I_ enjoyed today." She murmured. Her breath tickling my nose. Slowly I moved my hands to grip her waist gently. The pressure made her eyes snap open and a very different smile crossed her face.

"I know how I can make you feel better about yourself." She said, and I felt my gut clench at the suggestive nature of her words.

"Oh yes?" I replied, indulging her playful mood. She bent down to press a kiss to my mouth and slowly moved her hips against my lap. My hands tightened on her waist and I felt her smile whilst she kissed me. Pulling away she looked down at me with burning eyes.

"What was it you said this morning?" Her hands had unwound from behind my head and were now unbuttoning my shirt. I moved my own up over the curve of her waist to the hem of her top and inched it up as I looked into her now flushed face.

"I believe the word I used was later." I murmured, my voice husky as I hitched her top higher. I was satisfied to see her swallow dryly as she undid the last button of my shirt, moving it aside to expose my chest.

"Does this count as later?" She asked in a hoarse voice. All her teasing and confidence suddenly gone. I felt the corner of my mouth lift up into a half smile and with one final flourish I lifted her top over her head and threaded my hand into her long, brown hair.

"Yes. It does." I stated, and pulled her mouth down to meet mine. That night we generated enough heat to melt even the harshest of snow storms.


	8. An Affair to forget

**A/N: Hello everyone, I know it's been a while but I am back with a few more instalments. This one shot has a second part which I am still in the process of editing, but you've all been so patient I thought I'd give you this part first to tide you over. Don't worry, the next part and another one shot are on their way and will be with you shortly. But for now I'll leave all you lovely readers to read, review and enjoy! :)**

An Affair to forget

The cat eyed woman sidled up to me as I collected Morgan's cranberry juice and my tonic water from the bar. No alcohol tonight we were on a job.

"You don't look like the usual sad sack man that comes to this place." She purred in what she thought was a seductive voice but went through me like nails on a chalk board. I turned to her, keeping my expression courteous but uninterested as I ran an expert eye over her.

"No?" I said in a light tone. "Then I really must do a better job blending in."

She looked to be in her late forties but she hid it well. Dressing in a sophisticated but far too revealing floor length pink dress, her hair tied up artfully to hide her grey hairs. Her face was covered in wrinkle concealing make up, and her thin lips were painted a vivid scarlet to make them appear fuller. They turned up at the corners as she smiled sphinx like at me. She thought she had me, I could read it in her green greed filled eyes. I smiled coldly back at her.

"You're funny." She proclaimed, a high unnatural laugh breaking from her. I felt my mouth tighten as I attempted to move away from the uninvited encounter. Before I could get out of arms reach she shot out a manicured hand and griped my bicep.

I was wearing a short sleeve shirt to fit in with the warm climate of Portugal, so had to do my best not to recoil from the unexpected skin to skin contact. Despite my restraint physically, I couldn't help shooting her an icy stare which did little to perturb her anyway. She smiled at me wolfishly as her talons squeezed my exposed muscle.

"What say you dump whoever owns that second drink and join me instead?" Her tongue darted out over those blood red lips, her eyes drinking me in hungrily. I felt my skin crawl and had to use all of my remaining will power to stop myself from breaking her hand, not least because of the two drinks I was holding.

"No thank you. I'm afraid I'm spoken for." I gave her a polite smile as I tilted myself so she could see my left ring finger. The simple wedding band stood out like a talisman, a get out of jail free card in situations like these. I had used the ruse before on contracts, only this time it was also true. I was spoken for, very much so, by the brown eyed woman in the corner.

The green eyed one I was talking to however merely glanced at my ring and snorted as if it was made of tin foil. "That thing? That means nothing. Where is this woman who you claim has exclusive rights to all of this?" She waved her free hand up and down the length of me. A wave of nausea hit my stomach.

"She's waiting for me over there." I indicated Morgan with my head, hoping her presence alone would deter the woman. I watched the woman's eyes flash to where my wife was sitting, my focus fixed on her as she coolly assessed the love of my life. Her mouth turned up into a cruel smile and I narrowed my eyes.

"Like I said, it means nothing." She said turning her gaze back to me. "You're obviously way out of that mousey thing's league, ditch her and come have some fun with me."

A spear of anger shot through me and I felt my grip tighten on the two glasses in my hands until I thought they would shatter. As gently as I could manage I extracted my arm from the woman's clawed hand and tried to keep the tremor of fury out of my voice.

"And like I said, I'm good thank you. Enjoy your evening madam." I watched with some satisfaction as her eyes bugged slightly at the word 'madam' before turning sharply on my heel and striding away from her.

I tried to quell the seething hatred I felt at seeing that harpy look at Morgan as if she were nothing. On a normal day I would have embrace my new, more volatile self and told the woman exactly what I thought. That was, she was a vain, decaying old hag that had no right to look at my partner, let alone speak about her. But this wasn't a normal day, we were here on a contract. So I let the old 47 take control as I reached my handler/wife and calmly placed the drinks down.

Morgan looked up at me, her brow furrowing as I slid into the empty seat beside her. "What's wrong?" She asked as soon as I had settled, pushing her juice towards her. She still had the uncanny habit of reading my mind even when I thought I was being impassive.

"Nothing." I replied a little too curtly. Morgan raised a questioning eyebrow. I sighed, hating the expression she had picked up from me. "The woman over there was trying to persuade me to have an affair with her."

Much to my bewilderment Morgan laughed; throwing her head back, her eyes shut in mirth. After a moment she calmed down enough to look at me again, although her eyes were glistening with tears. She shot a look over my shoulder and I saw her sharp eyes scan the bar.

"The one in the pink dress with half her breasts on show?" She asked, her mouth still twitching with amusement. I nodded, keeping my expression disapproving at her apparent enjoyment of this.

"Can I ask what is so funny?" Morgan seemed to sober at my sour tone but I could see a mischievous glint in her eye.

"47, it took me long enough to persuade you to have an affair with me. She's got no chance." I frowned at her continued jubilation, my anger at the woman's proposition completely at odds with my wife's current mood.

"I said no." I quipped petulantly and her teasing expression quietened to be replaced by a loving smile.

"I know you did honey." She said, laying a gentle hand on my arm. The difference when Morgan's skin connected with mine was alarming. Instead of repulsion I felt a warm sensation spread where her palm brushed against my forearm, my stomach clenching as I looked down into her liquid brown eyes. I found myself disappearing into them before being snapped back to reality as they flashed away from me to look over my shoulder again.

"Pink dress? With the star and cross tattoo on her left shoulder?"

My senses jumped to attention at the mention of our target's gang symbol, turning my head a fraction I found my unwanted admirer still stood at the bar. Her back was now facing me and I could clearly see the tattoo Morgan was referring to. A Christian cross surrounded by a five point star. Chagrin filled me, in my eagerness to evade the forward woman I had failed to spot a crucial piece of intel. Luckily my partner wasn't so blinded.

I turned back to face her and could already see the cogs turning in her head, piecing together a puzzle no one else could see. I waited patiently for my handler to work out her plan. After only a few brief seconds Morgan blinked and gave me a sly smile.

"If she's got Miguel's mark she could be a viable way in."

I didn't like her tone of voice or the way she was looking at me, and I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. She continued unconcerned. "She's already made a pass at you. All you have to do is get her alone and 'pump' her for information." Morgan waggled her eyebrows at me suggestively, a cheeky grin stretching across her face. My expression hardened.

"You're suggesting I take her up on her offer?" She didn't reply, taking something out of her pocket and sliding it across the table. I gave her a level look and she returned it, all joking gone. She was no longer my wife, she was my handler.

I took the earpiece she had pushed towards me and slipped it into my ear with a practiced hand. "I'll be watching the hotel CCTV. Just go along with what I do next."

I didn't have time to ask what she had planned before she had stood up abruptly throwing her arms in the air in a very un-Morgan like way.

"How dare you!" She yelled, her voice sounding close to tears. All eyes in the rundown hotel bar were now trained on her. She was a good actor when she wanted to be. "I'll give you some time to think about how much this marriage means to you!" She declared theatrically and I felt the skin on the back of my neck prickle as our new target's attention was caught. I could feel that woman's eyes on me even from across the room.

 _Good job Morgan_ , I thought as she gave me a brief hurt filled glare, then stormed out of the bar. Even though I knew it was all for show, I still felt the painful sting of guilt watching her walk away from me. I quickly gather my emotions however, as I sensed a presence approaching from behind.

"That was quite a scene." Her voice sent icy shivers up my spine. Taking a breath to steady myself I fixed my well-worn mask into place and turned to face the woman now standing next to me.

"I didn't mean to hurt her. She's just so sensitive about other women looking at me." My stomach rolled uncomfortably even as I said the lie, but I was a professional above all else and this had been Morgan's plan to begin with. The woman gave me a broad smile as she took my wife's vacant place at the table.

"I'm sorry to hear that. The last thing I wanted was to make her feel insecure." Her expression and tone stated it was in fact exactly what she had wanted and there was a sharp stab of pain as my nails dug into my palms. I kept my face neutral as she leant forward, running one of those disgusting clawed hands up my forearm.

"How are you? You okay, or do you need some company?" I arranged an approximation of a flirtatious smile on my face and murmured back in as seductive tone as I could manage.

"Company would be…nice." The woman swallowed it, hook, line and sinker. Her own smile turned hungry as she held her other manicured hand out to me.

"I'm Veronica. And you are?" I took her offered hand and shook it.

"Paul." I said, her eyes flashed with triumph, as if she'd won the ultimate prize. Little did she know.

"Nice to meet you Paul. Shall we?" She stood and gestured for me to lead her out of the bar. I stood in one fluid movement and felt a wave of revulsion at the way she assessed me, her eyes flicking up and down my body. Starting across the shabby barroom with its equally shabby patrons, I scanned for anymore watching eyes. None yet, but our main man might still be here.

"Nice work. Looks like you've pulled." The familiar voice in my ear interrupted my assessment. I resisted the urge to growl in annoyance at her unhelpful joking. Even after all this time she still acted fat too blasé for a handler at times. Keeping my face blank I walked out of the bar and into the hotel lobby, Veronica hot on my heels.

"I'm on the third floor." She purred up at me, batting her ridiculous eyes. Nodding at her, as it was the only thing I could trust myself to do, I let her lead the way now we were in the practically deserted lobby. I carefully held three fingers by my side as I passed a camera.

"My intel suggested Miguel had booked the third floor for his meeting. This could be promising." I flicked a glance at the camera as Morgan mused on my hastily delivered signal.

"You coming…or not?" Veronica called to me from the foot of the stairs. Steeling myself for what promised to be an uncomfortable situation I followed behind her.

Her room was indeed on the third floor and adjacent to one of the hotel's master suites. When we had been planning this hit Morgan had speculated that it was one of the more likely places Miguel Lopez would hold his meetings with potential clients. I scanned the corridor leading to Veronica's room and noted there were two cameras; one pointed towards the suite and the other facing back down the corridor.

I looked up at the camera trained on me and Veronica by her room, knowing Morgan was the only one able to see us. A heavy sense of dread settled in my stomach as the thought of being alone with this woman loomed. But despite my prominent emotions I knew our best chance of getting near Miguel was currently opening her hotel room door and giving me a sideways look.

"After you." She said, leering at me from under her eyelids. I kept the disgust from my face and severed the new tentative connections I had with my emotions. Stepping into the room I scanned my surroundings. There were two large windows looking out on the street below; two good exits. A double doored wardrobe taking up one wall; spacious enough to conceal a body, and a door leading to the master suite next door; easy access to the target's potential room. I noted all of these things, my eyes skimming over them nonchalantly but storing all the relevant intel for later. My gaze finally settled on the king sized bed that dominated the floor space of the room and which Veronica had sauntered past me to sit down on. A voracious smile on her face.

"Why don't you take a seat Paul, you look tense." She patted the empty space beside her, that smile of hers widening. Despite the knowledge that I needed to appear attracted to her to retrieve the whereabouts of our elusive target, I found myself unable to obey her request. Her smile flickered as I continued to stand awkwardly in the centre of the room, wrestling with my conflicting interests. "I promise I won't bite." She tried again, her eyes glinting mischievously.

I wasn't ignorant to the art of flirting. My training had gone over it as a tool to find weaknesses and personal information on a target, but I had always preferred a less…intimate approach. It wasn't until Morgan that I had actually started paying attention to it at all. The subtle expressions and body language, the intonation in the voice when someone liked you, it was like learning another dialect.

Veronica straightened slightly from her previously relaxed posture, her eyebrows pulling together, deepening the wrinkles she was trying so desperately to hide. I could tell she was losing interest, so when she asked if I'd like a drink I responded with a hasty 'yes' so as not to blow my chance.

She slowly rose to her feet, the confidence returning almost instantly, and sashed over to the mini bar. "Let me guess, you're a whisky drinker?" She said silkily, pulling out a bottle of brown liquor. I nodded keeping my eyes hooded as I assessed her mood. This woman was a vain one, so convincing her I was fixated on her would be my easiest way in. However, this proved difficult as my wife's annoyed voice cut into our exchange.

"God damn it. I'm trying to access the camera on the smart TV in that room but there's an encryption on it. It may take a moment, sorry about this." I glanced over at the offending appliance in question, the dread growing heavier inside of me. It was one thing to be alone with this woman whilst pretending to be intimate with her, it was another thing altogether to have Morgan watching me do it. I was uncertain what was putting me so on edge, she had watched me kill countless times, sometimes in very brutal circumstances. She had even watched me torture and kill a woman once, I still had nightmares about the way she had looked at me after that. But standing here with a scantily clad Veronica inches from me, a drink in her hand and a recognisable fire in her eyes I felt more self-conscious and unnerved than I had performing any execution.

"Here you go handsome." She purred, handing me the whisky. I took the cool glass and took a sip of the drink, the familiar feeling of the whisky, both burning and numbing my throat as it went down, helped to alleviate some of the unease taking root in my stomach.

"Thank you." I replied in a smooth voice and Veronica responded by closing the distance between us so she was pressed against me. It took all of my self-control not to step back and put some much desired space between us. A feeling that was only exasperated by Morgan's cry of triumph and the small blinking blue light that appeared on top of the TV.

"Ah ha! Oh, I see you're making good progress dear." I gritted my teeth, keeping my gaze locked on the woman blinking stupidly up at me and not at my wife who was now watching us through the camera. There was at least a small concession that she couldn't hear us; especially considering what Veronica said next.

"I still can't understand why a man like you would choose to chain yourself to a girl like _that_." I lifted the corner of my mouth up with great effort.

"She had her…perks." Veronica gave me a slow smile, and swilled her own drink languidly around its glass.

"Hmmm, I bet." She took a sip, never taking her eyes of me. "Well, I must get tips from her on how she got you to say yes." A small frown creased my forehead as I looked down at the repulsive woman. She seemed fascinated by Morgan's ability to attract me, but in truth I was still perplexed how I had managed to attract her. I had never asked her point blank why she loved me, but it had always been a mystery to me. I thought about what she might say as Veronica, clearly bored with my indecision, reached up on her toes and pressed her mouth against mine.

My first instinct was to wrap a hand around her throat and squeeze, but I was aware that would have negative repercussions on our mission. So I held my ground, letting this stranger kiss me, with my wife watching from our hotel room. The first thing I noticed was how different she tasted to Morgan. The cool bite of whisky still on her mouth, coupled with the overwhelming stench of her perfume made me wrinkle my nose against the sensation.

Thankfully she pulled away, keeping our first encounter brief, but I could see the desire for a lot more in her eyes. "I wouldn't have pinned you as the shy type." She murmured, still close enough to feel her breath on my face. I raised an eyebrow at her quizzically. Deciding now was as good a time as ever to begin extracting information from her.

"You haven't told me if you are spoken for." I said, keeping my tone conversational. Veronica let out a loud barking laugh.

"Is that why you're so nervous? Don't worry, there are no jealous boyfriends ready to burst through that door." She ran a hand up my chest, her tongue running over her bottom lip. "It's just you and me."

I flicked a glance to the camera on the TV as she draped both her arms around my neck. "So you're here alone?" I probed again, leaning my head back as she tried to close the gap between us. She snorted, mistaking my question as another sign of indecision.

"Not completely, no. You think a woman like me could stay in a place like this unprotected?" My attention sharpened on the word 'protected'. Veronica took my sudden focus on her as a pass and lunged towards my mouth once more. I managed to evade her advances, ducking out from her grasp and leaving her kissing air.

"Are you here on business then?" I asked, taking a nonchalant sip of my whisky as she narrowed her cat eyes at me.

"Does it matter?" She snapped back, prowling towards me forcing me back against the wall.

"I'm curious."

"If you must know I am here with a colleague. He's out with a client and I had a free night." The space I had managed to create between was gone again, her clawed hands resting on my shoulders as she looked up at me; her expression predatory.

"Is he staying here too?" I attempted to keep the conversation going but my time, it seemed, was up.

"You ask too many questions." Veronica snarled as she bounced up on her toes and slammed her mouth against mine in a passionate kiss. There was nowhere for me to go, my back was literally against a wall and Veronica's body was blocking my only exit. Short of pushing her to the ground, I was stuck. Normally I would have taken what she had already given me and subdued her before she could do anything else with me. But this target had already proven difficult, giving us barely anything to go on, so much so that my wife had willing agreed to this unorthodox affair to gather intel.

My eyes which were pinned open during this frantic embrace slid to the camera again. I couldn't see her face but her gaze pricked against my skin through the small circular eye above the TV. I tried to extract myself from Veronica's grasp without alarming her, moving my arms between us in an attempt to gently lever her away. To my horror she tightened her grip on my shirt and ripped the first few buttons clean off.

"This is getting in the way." She growled against my mouth. I gripped one of her hands but the other took advantage of my surprise and dug her nails into my now exposed chest. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to throw this abhorrent woman onto the bed and snap her neck. How had I found myself in this situation? And why had Morgan agreed to this?

The silence on the other end of my earpiece was deafening. I became aware that I hadn't heard anything from my handler for an unusual length of time. Was she now having second thoughts about this plan? Was watching this woman kiss me too much for her? It was certainly too much for me and I used the hand I had captured to unbalance her and send her back a few steps, giving me merciful room to think.

Unfortunately, Veronica had other ideas. "So…you like it rough." She laughed, renewing her attack on me. Using my own move against me she grabbed what remained of my shirt and used her body weight to pull me towards the bed. It was only my continued surprise and uncertainty at being in this scenario that allowed her to successfully steer me.

Before I knew it I was on top of her, my hands automatically catching my weight before it landed forcefully on her. She smiled up at me, that painted mouth standing out like a wound on her face. The silence stretched on in my ear and I wondered if Morgan was indeed still watching me. I decided that to end this nightmare of a mission I would have to play along as convincingly as possible. She wasn't going to give up Miguel Lopez if she was a member of his gang as her tattoo suggested, I would have to get her guard down.

Closing my eyes I tried to imagine the times I had been with Morgan. Slowly her face swam into view. Her wide, smiling mouth. Her unruly, long brown hair, and her familiar, intelligent brown eyes. She was always so damn happy to see me. Why? What had I ever done for her? I was a killer. A monster.

I opened my eyes again and stared down into the unfamiliar green irises of the woman beneath me. A horrible, squirming nausea took a hold of me but I forced myself to see Morgan not Veronica as I leant in to kiss her. She still tasted wrong, not hot and sweet like my wife, but I could pretend. It was what I had been trained to do. Turn myself into something people wanted to see so I could complete my contracts. The nausea increased as I moved my mouth against this stranger's. Was that why she loved me? Had I done such a good job pretending that she had believed it? Was I even capable of being truly honest with anyone?

Veronica let out a small moan as I moved her lips apart, inserting my tongue into her mouth and stroking it against her own like I did with Morgan. She like that too. Was I just chameleon? So good at adapting to my environment that I did it without realising. I felt my stomach give a worrying flip as I increased my efforts, running a hand up the woman's body and entangling it in her hair. The illusion was so real now I wasn't entirely sure if I was actually with my wife or a stranger anymore. Veronica seemed to melt underneath me, her body becoming compliant, her breath short, as she let me take control. Just like Morgan.

"47."

Her voice was like a gunshot in my ear. Instantly I was tense. My mouth freezing against Veronica's as the illusion was shattered.

"We have a problem." I was just trying to collect my scattered thoughts and bring my unmanageable emotions into check, when I heard the sound of raised voices outside the door. Veronica who had been looking at me in dazed confusion, her eyes misty with arousal, suddenly turned bone white. Her head twisting out of my grasp to look at the door.

"I think my colleague is back early." She whispered. I stayed still, my expression hardening along with my grip on her as I waited for my handler to confirm her suspicions.

"Miguel is in the corridor. He's with five other men, it looks like they're armed." Morgan's voice was brisk and business like, but I was happy to be back on familiar ground.

"You should hide." Veronica hissed urgently at me, but I ignored her panic. Slowly the mask I had put on for my charade slipped away, revealing the cold, methodical killer underneath. Veronica's eyes widened as she took in the change. It was the same look I had received from all my victims; if they had the luxury of seeing my face at all.

"No." I replied simply as I pressed my free hand down on her throat, cutting off her oxygen supply. She gagged as those horrible green eyes of hers bugged out, and I watched with a quiet satisfaction as her talons clawed uselessly at me. This was what I was made for, this was what I knew.

Once I had subdued her, I lifted myself off the bed and turned to face the door. I could hear the shouts from outside now. Our target had finally come out into the open and I was in the prime location. I flicked a quick glance at the camera in the room, but Morgan had once again fallen silent. Although this time the silence signalled she was leaving me to do my job. Her services no longer needed.

Taking in a slow breath I stepped towards the closed door and prepared to complete our contract on Miguel Lopez, the elusive crime boss of Portugal. My brief and unpleasant affair behind me and already forgotten.


	9. Insecurities and sweet nothings (M)

**A/N: So here is the second part to An Affair to Forget. Marked 'M' for mature content. Hope you all enjoy! :)**

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Insecurities and sweet nothings (M)

This contract had definitely been a weird one. We had been camped out in Portugal for what felt like weeks but which had actually only been a few days, searching for the impossible to locate Miguel Lopez. Now I was sat waiting for 47 to return from finally dispatching the low life crime boss, after watching him engage in an affair with a horrendously vulgar woman which I had initiated. You could say what you wanted about my ex-mentor, but Diana had been right about one thing, you certainly saw some shit being a handler.

I rubbed a weary hand over my face as I destroyed the last of the files on the laptop I had been using. I had seen that woman kiss him first and felt nothing. He had looked suitably repulsed by the physical contact, his body language suggesting he would rather knock her out than kiss her. But then something had changed and after backing 47 against a wall and attacking him they had ended up on the bed, 47's shirt half open and his hand gripping hers in a passionate grip. That kiss had been notably different to the first one. 47 had been the one to initiate it for a start and he had kissed her as if he actually wanted her. It had been around that time that I had been forced to look away and saw our target returning to the room adjacent to them with an entourage of armed men.

I wasn't sure why I had felt so uncomfortable all of a sudden. I knew he loved me, in his own way, although he'd never told me. I was the only person he actually let touch him, or tease him, or order him around in anyway. Or at least…I had been. What if it was all a façade? Shutting the laptop down I turned my attention to our luggage. It was minimal as normal except for 47's weapons. Carefully I placed his beloved silverballer into its case and tried not to think about that fucking kiss anymore. It had been my idea, so I couldn't exactly get mad at him. But why had he looked like he enjoyed it so much?

The sound of the door bursting open and slamming made me jump several feet in the air. An alarmed shriek escaping me as I whirled around to face my intruder, the gun I had been packing aimed at the figure in the dorrway. 47 stood breathing heavily, his shirt still half torn open, blood splatters blooming on the pale blue fabric. I stared at him with wide eyes, his abrupt, conspicuous entrance even more alarming than his dishevelled appearance. I lowered the gun and watched his eyes follow its progress back into its case.

"What's wrong?" I croaked. My throat constricting as I took in my husband's sub Antarctic stare. He stayed by the door, his expression harder than granite. He looked so angry and I couldn't fathom why. Usually killing had the opposite effect on him and as far as I could tell once Miguel had showed up and he had subdued the woman, the hit had gone smoothly. I took a step towards him but in a flash his hand was up, commanding me to stop. My usual snarky comments at being told what to do died when his expression didn't change, and for the first time in a long time I felt the icy fingers of fear creep up my spine.

"47?" I tried again, my voice even more feeble than before.

"Why do you love me?" The question was unexpected but he delivered it in the unemotional way he reserved for others. The crawling hand of fear tightened around my gut as I stared into the aloof assassin's dead eyes.

"What kind of question is that? Did something go wrong?" I responded, unsure how else to approach this bizarre, and quite frankly, disturbing situation. His eyes narrowed, the atmosphere dropping several degrees between us.

"What is it about me you love?" He spat the last word at me as if it were obscene. I blinked a few times, unwilling to move in case I provoked him to get angrier. Although I still had no idea what I had done to deserve this reaction.

"Ummm, I've never really thought about it. I just do." It wasn't the right answer. 47 clenched his fists, his demeanour shifting from impassive to barely contained rage in a millisecond.

"I need to know Morgan." His voice now had a desperate edge to it. An urgency like his life depended on the answer I gave. I swallowed, the fear still rooting me to the spot. Whatever had happened in that room had clearly shaken 47. I tried to organise my answer so as to not upset him further, although I was feeling pretty rattled myself.

"You make me feel calm." I eventually blurted out, making me flinch and shut my eyes against the next stage of 47's wrath. The answer was certainly ironic as I felt anything but calm right now. When nothing happened, I opened one eye slowly and looked at my husband. He was still standing hands clenched, his posture rigid but there was a confused look on his face where before there had been cold fury.

"Calm?" He said, drawing out the word as if he had only just heard it for the first time. I nodded.

"Yes, whenever you're with me I feel like everything is going to be okay. Even when we're surrounded by people wanting to kill us or falling out of the sky in a busted airplane, you just have a way of…grounding me. I can't explain it any better, sorry." He tilted his head a millimetre to the side.

"I see." He said simply, then after a brief pause. "Anything else?"

"You make me laugh." One eyebrow went up. "You don't do it on purpose but that's why it's funny." I saw some of the tension leave his body and I smiled shyly in response.

"You're fair and have a pretty good conscious, even if you don't believe so." I kept going, the more I listed things the more I found to love about him. "You're brilliant with Seren and I see how much you care for her, and your garden. You're kind when you're not overthinking things and you make us both feel safe."

I stopped, suddenly aware of the bewildered look he was giving me. The silence grew heavy between us as I saw him digest all the things I had just shot at him, his eyes growing warmer by the second. Looking into his ethereal eyes another thing popped into my head and before I could stop myself it had shot out my mouth.

"Your eyes." 47 gave me the oddest look he had ever given me and I had to stopped myself bursting into gut wrenching laughter. That would have certainly irritated him.

"My…eyes?" He asked, his voice wobbling with what sounded like amusement but which could have been unease. It was hard to tell with him. My cheeks flared, burning hotter than the Portuguese climate. 47 continued to look at me expectantly and I let out a sigh of resignation. I had started now, I might as well finish.

"I love your eyes." I said in a mousy voice. It could have been a trick of the light but I swear I saw the corner of his mouth twitch up.

"Really?" He said, his tone ever so slightly teasing. I scowled at him, my initial fear at his unexpected line of questioning evaporating with my embarrassment.

"Yes, I do. Are we done now? Why did you ask me that?" 47 took a step towards me, his expression unsure.

"I was curious." He replied cryptically and I narrowed my eyes at him. The anger in the room switching sides abruptly.

"Did you doubt me? After what I just watched I should be the one questioning you, don't you think?" He didn't move any closer.

"It was your idea."

"True…but I never thought you'd actually enjoy it. Or at least look like you were." I snapped, the logical argument I knew he'd throw at me riling me nonetheless.

"I'm good at pretending. You know this." He answered coolly. The teasing edge to his voice gone, the cool distance he preferred back.

"I know pretending 47, I've seen it enough. But the way you were with that woman near the end…that wasn't pretending." His eyes, that I had confessed my affection for only moments ago, hardened to two blue chips of ice.

"I was imagining it was you." He said, and it took me a minute to understand his words. The anger built up inside me like a pressure cooker.

"Excuse me?" I hissed in a deadly voice. The assassin didn't flinch.

"I asked you why you loved me because I was unsure whether you were attracted to the real me or a mask I present to the world." The pressure ticked up a few notches.

"You! I'm in love with _you_ , you idiot. How many times do I have to say it?"

"I'm a monster Morgan. People don't love monsters." His voice was quiet but forceful. But I'd fought this battle a thousand times before and he wasn't getting away with it.

"I do. And I don't even care if you don't love me back, I just want things to stay as they are, right now. So stop trying to push me away. And definitely don't stick your tongue down another woman's throat quite as enthusiastically as you just did." My chest was heaving, the anger boiling over, my traitor eyes already starting to form the first tears of frustration. My husband simply stared back at me.

"I imagined she was you." He repeated, and I felt the air crackle with my fury.

"Is that supposed to be romantic? I don't need to here you say it 47 but it would be nice if you didn't give me mixed signals all the damn time." He frowned and then the fog seemed to lift from his eyes. Like he had just realised something.

"Your eyes." I blinked in confusion but he didn't give me a chance to query him. "Your smile when you think I'm not looking. Your intelligence and your bravery. The line you get between your eyebrows when you're angry. The way you stick your tongue out when you're concentrating. The way you are with Seren. The way you read my mind." His eyes bored into me, the air between us suddenly crackling with a very different kind of energy. The atmosphere grew heavy, as if preparing for something important. And then he said it.

"That's what I love about you."

It's funny how one word said by one particular person can turn your world on its axis, but it did. I felt the floor sway beneath me as my heart started beating far too fast. I knew how big a moment this was but I couldn't get my brain to reboot fast enough. It was still going haywire when 47 eyebrows lifted up into a concerned expression.

"You…you love me?" He seemed to think about my question before finally giving me a small curt nod. The room pitched alarmingly to one side. I struggled to remain upright and think at the same time. "That's the first time you've told me." I managed in a breathless voice.

He regarded me for a moment, then his eyes turned molten and the air was sucked out of my lungs in an electrically charged vacuum as he spoke in a husky voice. "I prefer to show you."

He was across the room before I could blink. One hand clamping around my waist, pulling me flush against him. The other threading through my hair, holding my face in place as he kissed me with a ferocity I was not expecting. His mouth burned against mine and I felt the little remaining breath I had escaping. I was helpless, trapped in his vice like grip, unable to speak or move away, and completely content with my circumstances. My already scrambled brain hummed happily away as 47 continued his passionate assault on my lips.

I expected him to pull away, as 47 could only manage intimacy for short burst, but he kept going. Only letting me take short gasping breathes as he stroked his tongue over mine in a gesture that always made my knees weak. A small, angry voice in the back of my mind reminded me that this was how he had kissed that woman early in the evening, and I attempted to break away from him so I could tell him as much. But despite my best efforts to talk he silenced me by sliding his hands down to hook underneath my thighs, lifting me up effortlessly.

I was vaguely aware we were moving as I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep myself upright, his mouth never leaving mine. The next thing I knew I was falling through the air, my heart leaping into my throat before my back collided with the resistant surface of the bed. I stared up at 47 in bewildered surprise as he stood over me, his expression fiercely intense. He gripped his bloody, half torn shirt and quickly disposed of it, ripping the remaining buttons off. Any more reservations or queries I had died on my tongue at the sight of his bare chest and the uncharacteristic assertiveness he was displaying.

My mouth hung open as he lowered himself over me, his arms trapping me. Without any of his usual indecision he forced my mouth shut with his own. Fire licked though my veins as my senses tried to process the feeling of his lips moving against mine and the weight of his body pressing me into the bed. There was a rough hunger to his kiss now, and I felt my lungs ache as they asked for the oxygen I was slowly being deprived of.

His urgency scared me and I placed my palms of his muscular chest, pushing with all my strength to try and get him to stop for just a moment. I might as well have been trying to move a concrete wall for all the progress I made. Instead of moving off me he finally moved his mouth away from mine, pressing it to my ear, his voice low as he spoke softly into it.

"You say you love me for who I am, but I wonder if you really know who that is." The skin on my arms prickled despite the warm, solid body pressed against me and the fire currently shooting through my blood. He moved his head so I could feel his eyes on my face, although I was unable to move due to his proximity. "I was made to kill. To crave it. If you only knew how often I got the urge…" Slowly, slowly one of his hands inched across my body. Brushing over my arm, across my chest and coming to a rest, hovering above my throat. "I wonder then if you'd love me. If you knew how easy it would be for me to hurt you…to kill you." His hand pressed down on my throat, his fingers gripping the soft flesh.

A spike of adrenaline shot through my body as it reacted to the pressure of his hand; the tight, restrictive feeling sending panic signals to my brain. But I kept still, my instincts telling me if I tried to run or fight that I would lose almost instantly. I could feel his breath against my ear as he watched me, his grip tightening just enough to make it uncomfortable but not alarming.

"You won't hurt me." I managed to say, my voice strained. 47 cocked his head slightly in my peripheral vision, the blue of his eyes a dazzling blur.

"You believe that?" All my senses were focused on the point where his large hand wrapped around my throat. He was as still as stone, a coiled viper waiting for its moment to strike. But I wasn't afraid, not really. The animal part of my brain was on high alert, but I knew that hand, which had snapped some many necks, wasn't going to add another to its list tonight.

"Yes." I whispered, the fire in my blood flaring as the assassin let out a low moan, his head lowering to the junction between my neck and shoulder, and the soft exposed skin. His hand remained locked in place, although he had eased the pressure off, allowing me to take short gasping breaths as he ran his lips over the sensitive spot.

"I'm going to show you how you make me feel Morgan, and it's not going to be gentle." My stomach clenched in response to his words. Who was this new 47? His lips were trialling fire along my collar bone now. The feeling of his hand around my neck not just a warning anymore, but a promise of things to come. A niggle of fear entered the back of my mind. I knew the low opinion 47 had of himself and I stubbornly refused to accept it. I hoped I wouldn't regret my obstinance.

"I'm not afraid." I lied, and felt my heart jump into my mouth as his eyes flicked up to me from his position near my chest. My traitor's heart was hammering away, betraying my emotions.

"I think you are." Quick as a snake striking he moved his head back to the sweet spot on my neck and sank his teeth into the tingling flesh. It was only a nip but my body jerked involuntarily and I let out a small yelp of surprise. 47 moved back up to hover over me, his eyes burning brightly with an excitement I had only seen when he was on a contract. He had the look of a predator about him, and I was his prey.

"You sure?" He asked me, my one chance at escape. Any other woman would have backed out now, but I was a stupid wide eyed deer and I was hypnotised by the viper staring down at me.

"Yes."

In an impressive display of inhuman speed he released my throat and was on his feet in a second. He gripped the waistband of my jeans and pulled them off in one clean movement. Not wanting to be completely useless, I propped myself up and tried to free myself of my shirt. However 47 had other ideas. He gripped my shirt and dealt with it in a similar manner to his own.

"Hey, just because yours was ruined no need to break mine." I protested reflexively and bit my lip as I instantly regretted my outburst. 47's expression was deadly. Delicious chills ran up and down my spine as a heady mix of adrenaline and hormones flooded through my system. Calmly he reached into one of the bags I had been packing and pulled out one of his signature red silk ties.

"This is going to prove difficult if you keep resisting me, so I think I'll take precautions." Before I could ask what he meant by 'precautions' he grabbed both my wrists in one hand and forced them above my head. Leaning over me he deftly wrapped the silken material around my wrists binding them together. My heart was beating violently against my chest as I felt tugging on my bound hands as 47 tied my to the study oak headboard.

I stared up at him as he assessed his handiwork, his ice blue eyes sliding down to my face. Testing the knot I found it predictably unyielding. The assassin raised an eyebrow at my futile attempt at escape and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I realised I was completely vulnerable. He gently stroked a finger along the side of my face before relieving me of my underwear.

"I love it when you blush like that." He growled as he undid his trousers and positioned himself between my legs. He didn't give me any time to adjust to the new scenario I found myself in. I let out a small gasp as he pushed himself inside me and immediately set a punishing rhythm. I felt the fire begin to lick down to the junction between my thighs, the smooth silk of his tie pulling on my wrists with every jolting movement. His intense gaze was making me feel more exposed and I leant my head back, closing my eyes to escape it. He let out a low snarl and pushed one of my legs up, allowing him to deepen his thrusts. His other hand gripped my chin and pulled my head back, my eyes snapping open at the unexpected action.

"Look at me." He growled, his eyes burning me like blue fire. That wonderous concoction of excitement with just a dash of fear sent a wave of desire to my groin. I bit down on my lip but couldn't help the moan of pleasure escape me as I stared into the eyes of my husband.

He increased his pace, the tight knot condensing in my gut as he did. My arms were beginning to ache from being kept in their elevated position but in truth I didn't mind, not one bit. I could feel the barely contained strength behind every movement he made. He was usually extremely gentle with me, as if worried he might accidently break me at any moment, but this time he didn't seemed to care. It didn't hurt, but the meaning behind it was painfully clear. He wanted me to see how dangerous he was.

My eyes began to close again, the feeling of ecstasy building towards its inevitable crescendo. I fully expected 47 to scold me again for shutting my eyes, denying him the ability to look into them. Instead I felt him lean forward and release the knot trying my hands to the bed. I was flying through the air before I could register what was happening. With a huff I landed back on the bed face down, my hands still bound in front of me, the headboard I had previously been tied to the only thing I could see.

"If you don't want to look at me we'll do it this way." He said in a low, gruff voice. Two rough hands grabbed my hips and hoisted them into the air so I was balanced on my elbows and knees. I had just enough time to realise what was about to happen before he slammed into me again. I let out a harsh cry of surprise as he claimed me. I couldn't see his face but I heard his low growl of satisfaction as I instinctually pushed my hips back against the delicious feeling of him inside me.

I buried my head in the silk wrapped tightly around my wrists, it smelt overwhelming of him. My hands gripping the sheets beneath me as 47 continued his relentless rhythm. He was everywhere, his firm fingers digging into the mailable flesh at my hips, the intoxicating sound of his labour breathing reaching my ears, and the all-encompassing sensation of him filling me.

The tightly wound coil of desire flared, my nerves were singing at the unexpected thrill of being at his mercy. Suddenly there was an empty space where one of his hands had been, and a strong arm curled around my stomach lifting me upright. My back collided with his chest and the arm he had used to lift me pinned me to him. I let out a small cry as the feeling of my impending release rushed to meet me. It was excruciating and wondrous all at the same time. It turned to a gasp of shock as his other arm snaked up my body to gripped my throat in a gentle, but firm grasp.

Bound to him in this way I could feel his heart thudding against my back. He slid his hand up my throat, pushing my head back so my ear was level with his mouth. "You…are…mine…and…I…am…yours." He whispered between thrusts and I lost control.

I was aware of 47's grip tightening momentarily on my throat as my orgasm swept through me, my head thrown back on his shoulder as I cried out his name. The edge of my vision blurred as the strength of it hit me. I had never felt anything like it. Then his arm around my stomach gripped me against his sweat slick chest as he found his own release. The sound of him growling into my ear sending delicious aftershocks through me.

We stilled. Clasped together, back to front, out of breath and shaken. Finally he let me go and I collapsed on the rumpled bed sheets. I let out a breathy laugh as he bent over me, carefully untying the tie from around my wrists and I turned into my side rubbing the life back into them. It seemed his gentle side had returned now he had sated himself.

"I could get used to that." I chuckled and felt him pause, his eyes raking over my body. My body was exhausted from all the excitement and I found it hard to move my head. I felt the bed dip next to me as he lowered himself, he brushed his lips against my exposed shoulder sending a shudder through me. Then his solid presence was gone and he was up on his feet.

I watched him walk around the room, finishing the job I had started. We could stay here now the job was done but I still couldn't find the energy to move. A small smile played across my lips as my husband, the assassin, shrugged on a fresh shirt and tied the tie he had just used on me around his neck. He caught me watching him and I saw the glint of amusement in his eyes as he completed his perfect Windsor knot.

I wasn't sure what had just happened, but two things stood out to me. The first being I had just had the best sex of my life and would struggle to stand for a few days probably. The second, and most important thing, the supposedly cold hearted, merciless assassin I had devoted my life to had told me he loved me…and had meant it.


	10. An Unexpected Arrival

**A/N: Another one shot to keep you all going. This one was partly inspired by Stacy Rodriguez922** **, it isn't exactly what you suggested but it is along the same vein, so hope you enjoy. ;) I am coming to the end of my ideas for these one shots although I have a few more I want to do, so if you have any ideas I will do my best to achieve them. It all depends what inspires me. Anyway, I hope you will read, review and enjoy! :)**

* * *

An Unexpected Arrival

Morgan

I stared in disbelief at the results. I had been feeling under the weather for the past few weeks; nausea, hot flushes and violent mood swings resulting in angry outbursts that even 47 was starting to fear. But at no point during all of that had I suspected a thing.

"I'd say you're about three weeks gone." The kindly Doctor said, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled warmly at me.

"Are you absolutely positive?" I queried. My brain unwilling to accept the facts despite them being placed in front of me.

"About as positive as you are." The Doctor said with a chuckle. "Congratulations."

I was pregnant. The word sounded foreign to me, and I had to turn it over a couple of times before it really began to sink in.

"Holy shit." The Doctor's smile faded slightly and she raised her eyebrows at my unexpected reaction.

"Not good news then?" She tentatively asked. I blinked, my expression dazed.

"No…no…It's just…I didn't expect it that's all." She didn't look convinced.

"Do you know who the father is?" I couldn't help a rather loud snort escaping me, which only aided in raising her eyebrows further.

"Yes, I have a pretty good idea." I managed to spluttered out. My cheeks flaring red as the thought of telling said father suddenly became a horrible, concrete reality. "Oh, holy shit." I repeated looking down at the small sheet of paper proclaiming my abrupt promotion to baby factory. He was away at the moment, completing a simple contract that didn't require my particular expertise. Which meant I could stay in Wales and look after Seren, instead of dragging Victoria or Charlie in for childminding duty.

"I'll schedule you in for an ultrasound in about a month so that we can set your due date." The Doctor said, typing something into her computer. I continued to stare numbly at the slip of paper, my hands shaking ever so slightly as I thought about what to do.

A baby? Were we ready for that? We already had Seren but she had been created in a lab against our knowledge and was already six by the time 47 had met her. A jarring image of the intimidating assassin in his immaculate suit holding a drooling baby on his knee suddenly entered my mind. All the blood drained from my face as I considered the possibility that he wouldn't want it. My hand curled around my still flat stomach unconsciously and I swallowed down a lump in my throat.

Mumbling my thanks to the now extremely concerned Doctor, I gathered my things and collected Seren from the waiting room where she had been methodically taking apart some of the children toys left for the younger patients. She looked up at me with those unnerving ice blue eyes, a disassembled bead maze in her hand.

"Rydych chi'n iawn ma?" _You okay ma?_ She asked, her expression worried as she dropped her project and stood up to greet me. I noticed she always switched to Welsh when she thought there was a problem. When me or 47 had a tense conversation about a contract or about another freelancer trying their luck with us she would always wander into the middle of it speaking in her native tongue. It had frustrated 47 no end to begin with, but now he was almost as fluent as we were, he accepted it more.

My hand gripped my stomach again as I thought about the small gestures he made with Seren. Surely they were a sign that this baby wouldn't be such an unwelcome surprise. Right?

I let out a long sigh and took my daughter's hand. "Everything's fine cariad. Come on, I think you've done enough damage here." I led her away from the scene of carnage she had created and mouthed a sincere 'sorry' to the peeved receptionist. I was quiet all the way back to the farm. Seren chatted to me non-stop, switching between Welsh and English, obviously picking up on my tense mood.

Once home we finished the chores around the farm. I let Seren take the lead on the heavier lifting, unsure whether I should be doing anything too strenuous now. I sensed a deep dive on the internet. She didn't seem to mind, lifting whole bales of hay above her head until I told her to stop before she crushed one of the sheep. I prepared dinner and sent her to bed in a bemused daze, going through the motions whilst my mind thought of morning sickness and swelling tummies.

Realistically how long could I hope to put off telling him? I would be showing within a month and once that started any normal man would know something was off. But 47 wasn't a normal man. I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face as I sat alone in the kitchen, my untouched tea in front of me. Could I even drink caffeine anymore?

"Christ alive. What a fucking mess." I cursed to the empty room. Things had been going fine between us. We were married, he seemed to be adjusting to Seren more and more, he stayed with us for weeks at a time when he wasn't 'working' and he had been becoming more intimate with me. _And therein lies your problem Morgan._ I thought bitterly, resting my head in my hands. It had been exactly what I had wanted for me and Seren, but now this baby would likely throw everything off balance. Destroying our delicate ecosystem.

The morning sickness started two days later. Almost as if it had been waiting for me to know. Seren watched anxiously as I ran to the toilet for the third time that day. "Did you eat something bad?" She asked, a serious frown on her face which made her look so much like her father it nearly sent me running for a fourth time.

"Yes." The abrupt response was all I could manage and Seren visibly flinched at my tone. I had been trying to keep my anger in check all day, but with my raging hormones my patience was a thin glass wall with a lot of cracks in it. 47 was due to return tomorrow and no matter how many times I rehearsed it in my head, I couldn't get the words right. I had decided to tell him first and see where we were after that. I didn't want to reveal to Seren that she was going to be a sister until I knew where her father stood on events.

I was a jittery bag of nerves by the time I heard the familiar sound of the Audi pulling up into the yard the next day. It was already nearly midnight and I would usually have been in bed asleep when he crept soundlessly into our room and into our bed. But tonight was different. I was sat on the sofa in the small living room of the farm house, one lamp on and the embers of a fire in the grate. I shifted nervously as I heard the door quietly open and click shut behind him. His soft footsteps paused on their normal route to the bedroom as he clocked the light on downstairs. It had only been two weeks since I had last seen him but my heart still tripped over itself at the sight of his tall, imposing figure in the doorway.

"What are you doing down here?" He asked, no preamble. His glacial eyes fixed on me sending delicious shivers down my spine. God, these fucking hormones.

"Can you sit?" He narrowed his eyes, his angular face suspicious. "Or come in? Just don't stand in the doorway like that, you're making me nervous."

He slowly raised one black eyebrow and stepped fluidly into the living room. He was even more intoxicating stood over me, his outline highlighted by the single lamp. His traditional black suit and red tie making him look like a billionaire businessman rather than a professional killer for hire. I noticed he was still wearing his black leather gloves. The ones he used to unsure no fingerprints were left at the scene of whatever hit he had committed last. He studied me with a face as impassive as granite, slowly pulling each finger free from said gloves and sliding them off deftly. I could feel my heart galloping in my chest, and my stomach gave a rebellious jolt as it threatened to reveal my unexpected news before I was ready.

"What's wrong Morgan?" 47 said, his voice smooth as silk but an undeniable warning in those words. He knew something was wrong and I had better tell him or he'd force it out of me. I swallowed the bile trying its best to push its way up my throat and took in a steadying breath.

"I went to the Doctor's while you were away." Before I could continue he was sat beside me, his expression tense. His eyes boring into me like diamond drills.

"Are you ill?" Is Seren okay?" A brief but bright flare of warmth shot through my chest at his sudden switch in mood. He was worried. Maybe this wasn't going to be such a disaster. Then I took in the unmistakable scent of gunpowder and blood which always seemed to follow him round days after a contract, and my hope died as quickly as it had come. This wasn't a man who wanted children. This was a man who was made to kill and despite my repeated efforts to persuade him otherwise believed it with every fibre of his being.

I looked down at my hands which were clasped tightly around my flannel pyjamas. Unimpressed by my pause, I felt a firm but gentle finger insert itself under my chin, tilting my head back up to look at the assassin sat next to me. "Morgan?" His voice was as firm as his grip, but I could see the slight flicker of concern in his arresting eyes.

"Please. Please don't get angry." I blurted out. The first sign of tears entering my eyes. 47's frown deepened and he removed his hand slowly.

"What's happened?"

"I went to the Doctor's because I wasn't feeling well, and…in my defence I had no idea we could even…that you could…I thought you were…" I had rehearsed and rehearsed and rehearsed my lines, but sat in the quiet living room with his stoic demeanour I couldn't seem to get them out in the right order.

"I'm pregnant." I finally spat out, my voice jumping several octaves in the process. A heavy silence settled between us and for the first time since knowing him, I genuinely had absolutely no idea what 47 was thinking. He sat rigidly still, his expression blank, his eyes taking on a glazed, faraway look. I kept similarly motionless, afraid any movement would trigger something in him.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours before I finally moved due to my impatience and the increasing need to pee. "Ummm, 47?" I probed. Just stopping short of poking the assassin lest I risk losing another finger.

He blinked slowly; once, twice, his eyes clearing as they drifted down to my stomach. "About three weeks she said." I answered his unasked question, a nervous wobble in my voice. His eyes returned achingly slowly to my face.

"In the hotel, in Portugal?" He said. I nodded, having come to the same conclusion myself.

"Afraid so." One eyebrow lifted slowly up and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Well, that'll teach me." He said, his tone amused. I felt my mouth drop open in disbelief as his mouth quirked up into a half smile.

"You're not upset?" The question popped out before I could stop it. 47 looked mildly confused although the smile stayed in place.

"Why would I be angry? It's not your fault. Last time I checked it takes two people to create a life." It was my turn to look stunned.

"You do realise what a baby entails right? You weren't around the last time I went through this and I didn't even give birth to Seren." 47 smile stretched up into one of his full smiles he only reserved for me.

"I am well aware of all that, but the thought of telling you to get rid of it or give it up for adoption…well, I know what that would do to you Morgan and I'm not sure I could live with myself either." If my jaw could have hit the floor it would have.

"So…so we're doing this?" I asked, my voice a hushed whisper as if speaking too loud would change his mind. His smile dropped and for a moment my heart sank with it. But before I could let my hormones send me into an emotional whirl, he reached out and cupped my face with one of his large hands.

"I think we've handled enough together to be able to do this. Don't you?" Warmth spread throughout my body, enveloping my stomach and our new child and radiating out to fill the room. My husband leant forward and tenderly kissed my mouth. Fire flashed through my veins and my thoughts turned to jelly under his touch. I would really need to get a grip on these hormones.

"You look tired, let's get you to bed." He murmured against my mouth and before I could protest he had scoped me up into his arms and was already half way up the stairs. "Does Seren know?" He asked quietly as we passed her closed door.

"Not yet. Wanted to see how you took the news first." I whispered back. My body vibrated as he gave a low chuckle moving us soundlessly into our bedroom.

"I'll leave that to you. Seeing as you did such a good job telling me." He said, placing me delicately on the bed as if I were made of glass. I groaned as the next unpleasant hurdle loomed ahead of me. But it was quickly forgotten as my husband finished undressing and slid into bed next to me. He pulled me against him so my back was flush with his chest and rested his chin above my head on the pillow. I could already feel myself drifting off, relieved that nothing bad had happened and I still had my extraordinary husband by my side.

The last thing I remembered was the slow, steady rhythm of 47's breath as he fell asleep, his one arm wrapped around me, his large hand placed on my stomach in a protective gesture.

* * *

"If you don't sit down now, I will make you sit."

His harsh command lost some of its edge as I eyed him up, bowl and whisk in hand, egg whites dripping from the utensil.

"I will. I'm just worried you're going to burn the place down that's all." I said with a smirk. 47 didn't look similarly amused. Glowering at me in an attempt to look threatening.

"I am more than capable of cooking Morgan. Now sit." This time I obeyed. Sinking into one of the chairs placed around the dining room table, a cheeky glint in my eye. It wasn't an elegant manoeuvre by any measure, as my gigantic balloon of a belly made it hard to do anything elegantly anymore. But I did my best. The assassin turned chef gave me a stern look before turning back to his masterpiece. I shot a look at Seren who was sat opposite me drawing and winked at her playfully.

I was now well into my third trimester and only a two weeks out from my due date. I had been coping fine until about a month previous, going about my daily chores on the farm as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Then on my last trip to the Doctor, which 47 had insisting on joining me for, she had instructed I take it easy, with a capital 'E'. Of course 47 had leapt into overdrive, practically fly-kicking anything remotely heavy or labour intensive out of my grip as if it was designed to kill me. It had been endearing at first, but now my patience was wearing thin, so I had invented a new game in my boredom, how far could I push my husband to breaking point. So far he was holding out, but I knew I'd get him before the baby arrived.

"Do you think the baby will like eggs as much as I do?" Seren asked. I smiled at her warmly.

"Maybe. I think your father is partial to them seeing as that's about all he cooks for us so there's a good chance." 47 shot me a deadly look over his shoulder as he continued to whisk the eggs to within an inch of their life.

"Does that mean I won't have as many eggs then, if the baby likes them?" Seren's acceptance to becoming a sibling had been a slightly rockier journey than her father's. After explaining numerous times the baby wasn't to be treated like Bran her border collie, or any other animal on the farm for that matter, she really hadn't been sure what they would be for. As if the baby needed a purpose. Now she had taken to ensuring that all the things she enjoyed wouldn't be halved or lessened in anyway when her new brother or sister arrived.

"If they like eggs we'll just buy more." 47 said pragmatically. Seren stared at the back of her father's head for a moment, contemplating that fact. Then seemingly satisfied she nodded and returned to her drawing. The baby gave an obstinate kick as if to add their own penny's worth to the discussion. I huffed in surprise, gripping my stomach. 47's eyes were on me in a flash, his expression questioning. I smiled at him reassuringly and rubbed gently at the sore spot our child had created. It certainly had its father's strength.

We had discussed a few times the possibility of creating another impossible child, like Seren. Although the results would be a lot more random this time around, having been made the natural way not in a test tube, there was still a good chance that it would inherit some of its father's…exceptional traits. I had been less concerned having already been around the block with a stroppy, super strength toddler but 47 had got that fearful look in his eyes he sometimes got when Seren acted abnormally. I knew his greatest fear was dooming another to the same hand he had been dealt. He had done his best with Victoria and Seren, and now we were adding another worry to his list.

"Victoria said she was fine to watch Seren around the due date." I said, reminded of the unusual woman that had become part of our family. 47 was deep in concentration however and so simply nodded in response as he cook the omelette he was making.

I lapsed into a contented quiet. Seren happily drawing away, it was hard to believe she was nearly eight, 47 cooking the only thing he seemed to know how to and me and the baby sat in blissful harmony as I waited for my husband to be done.

It didn't last long however, as a riot abruptly broke out in the yard outside. Bran erupted into a string of violent barking startling the ewes in the barn who began to bleat and bang against their pens insistently.

"What in the actual-" I began. 47 went to turn off the cooker and see what was happening but I held up a hand, attempting to stand up as I stopped him. "No, you stay. I'll go see what that mad dog is doing."

He opened his mouth to argue, but my patience had officially been used up today and I quickly snapped back, "I think I can handle that dopey mutt on my own." My expression must have matched my tone as he shut his mouth slowly and turned back to his cooking. Although I could feel his cool gaze on my back as I waddled towards the back door.

Outside I looked around trying to locate the source of the barking. With a grunt of frustration my gaze settled on the barn, the epicentre for whatever the fuck was going on. I moved in a cumbersome way towards the chaos, my hands wedge firmly on the small of my back, my belly thrust out to keep my balance centred. I opened the small door to the sheep barn and let out a shout of fury.

Bran had managed to not only get into the pen with the lambing ewes but had got himself stuck in between the slats of one of the gates. He was squirming and writhing trying to free himself whilst emitting an absolute racket. The pregnant sheep he'd been trying to make 'friends' with were huddled in the far corner, bleating and rolling their eyes in alarm. If he didn't stop it soon there would be more than one new arrival to the farm.

Stomping over I glared down at the trapped dog. "Bran! Aros!" I snarled. But Bran was in such a state of panic that he didn't even flinch at my command. Not seeing another way out of this I pitched forward, reaching out to grab the scruff of his neck to help him out of his predicament. As I wrapped a hand round his fur Bran managed to loosen himself from the gate's grasp and leap forward into the pen, jerking my arm and sending me tumbling to the floor face first.

I let out a harsh cry as I landed on my distended stomach. A barbed lance of pain shooting up my spine. It took a moment for me to get myself upright, the weight from the baby making it almost impossible to push off from the floor. By the time I was sat with my back against the sheep pen, a familiar set of legs were positioned in front of me and an angry set of blue eyes looking down at me.

"You shouldn't have done that." 47 growled, his eyes flashing fire as he took in my straw filled hair and mud stained stomach.

"I'm fin-" I began, but an alarming tugging feel on my stomach and a seeping wetness down my leg stopped me in my tracks. 47 registered the panic in my expression and was instantly crouched in front of me, the anger replaced with concern.

"What is it?" He asked, his tone serious. I stared into his ethereal blue eyes and swallowed hard as the first squeeze of pain gripped my uterus.

"I think my waters just broke."

* * *

47

The pacing wasn't helping, but it was all I could think to do. I felt trapped, helpless, weak, unable to help my wife who was currently screaming as if she were being murdered in the next room.

It had taken me precisely ten minutes to load everyone into the car and another hour to get them to the hospital. There had been no time to call Victoria before so Seren had come with us, her face fixed in a look of horror at the animalistic sounds of pain her mother was making. I had quickly summoned Victoria the minute we were there, but she was still around an hour away and I wasn't going to leave Seren alone in the waiting area or take her into whatever nightmare awaited us in Morgan's private room. Which meant I was trapped listening to her being torn apart with no way to stop the pain.

"Pa mor hit y bydd?" _How long will it be?_ Seren asked. Her voice miserable as she looked up at me with round eyes.

"Dydw I ddim yn gwybod." _I don't know._ I replied trying to soften my expression to help her relax, but finding it almost impossible when Morgan let out another piercing scream. Seren flinched and shot across the waiting area to my side, her small hand slid into mine and gripped it tightly.

"Dw I ddim yn ei hoffi." _I don't like it._

"Nor do I." I murmured back. Resigned to my agonising wait.

I tried to distract her, and myself, by teaching her how to tie a perfect Windsor knot using my tie. She was just refining her technique, kneeling on my lap, her small hands moving the red silk around my neck, when Victoria finally arrived.

"I got here as fast as I could." She huffed out, her green eyes bright with adrenaline. As if to welcome her to the party Morgan let out another loud shout of pain, a few choice curse words thrown in for good measure. Victoria raised her eyebrows and gave Seren a glance.

"Is she okay?" She asked gesturing towards the girl on my lap with her head. I didn't answer, letting Seren finish her knot before gripping her around the waist and gently lifting her off of me.

"I'm going to see your mother now. Stay here with Victoria." She looked up at me with a baleful expression as I stood and walked towards the door to Morgan's private room. I had seen some things in my life that most people would consider horrifying and I had done things which would turn a normal man's stomach, but nothing could prepare me for what I saw in that room.

Morgan was lying with her knees propped up on the bed, her face was covered in perspiration and there were tears running down her cheeks. Her long brown hair was hanging around her face, giving her a wild look as she grimaced against yet another contraction. A round faced nurse was leaning down by her feet, peering under the sheet covering her lower half.

"You're doing really well sweetie. Just a few more centimetres and we can get this party started." Morgan moaned as she ground her teeth together, then began to pant, her eyes flying open to immediately land on me.

"Where the hell have you been?" She growled, her brown eyes flashing with anger. I took an involuntary step back, half tempted to retreat back to the limbo of the waiting area rather than face her fury. But then the nurse noticed my presence and rushed over to me, her expression stern.

"You going to stand there like a damp squib son or go and support your wife?" I blinked down at the small, fierce woman and suddenly felt extremely out of place and outnumbered.

"I was waiting for Victoria to take over with Seren, sorry." I muttered, feeling like a scolded child as I walked over to stand beside Morgan. She looked up at me, the pain evident in her expression and I felt the overwhelming urge to relieve her of whatever was causing her such misery. Unfortunately that something was my child trying to force its way out of her by any means necessary.

"Is she…okay?" Morgan asked between pants.

"I think so." I replied truthfully. Her eyes suddenly slammed shut and she bared her teeth in a pained expression.

"Arrrgggghhhhhooooooohmmyyyygoooood." She half yelled, half snarled.

"Deep breaths sweetie." The nurse instructed, resuming her position between Morgan's legs. I stood uselessly by my wife's head as she forced herself through another contraction. Her knuckles turning bone white as they gripped onto the sheet by her sides. The nurse glanced up and gave me an amused look.

"You can touch her you know. You won't break her." I scowled back but she was already back under the sheet examining parts of my wife only I was meant to see. Although right now I had absolutely no intention of going anywhere near that area. Tentatively I stretched out my hand and placed it over Morgan's clenched fist. Instantly her eyes were on me, the angry pain fading away to desperate fear.

"It hurts…so…bad." I gently unhooked her fingers from the sheet and held her hand firmly in mine.

"I can see that." I murmured. A tear rolled down her cheek, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. I was used to watching people in pain, but when it was someone I cared about it felt like I was being tortured too. I doubted whether even losing her finger had been this painful.

"Alright honey, I think we're about ready to roll here." The nurse announced grandly as she peaked out from under the sheet. "On the next contraction I want you to start pushing, okay?" Her eyes slid from Morgan's face to our clasped hands. "I'd be careful of that hand son if I were you." She said in a mock warning tone. I frowned at her, trying to decipher what she meant, when the next contraction hit and Morgan did indeed start pushing. And crushed my hand at the same time.

Determined not to cry out I gritted my teeth together and rode the pain with her. What followed was one of the most painful, distressing experiences of my life. It took twenty minutes to push our child into the world; twenty minutes of gut wrenching screams from Morgan, twenty minutes of barked orders from a strange woman in between her legs and twenty minutes for all the bones in my hand to be pulverised by my surprisingly strong wife. We started the twenty minutes with just three people in the room and ended it with four.

The loud wailing cries were the first sign that the nightmare was over. Then the nurse let out a happy sound as she straightened up, an alarmingly purple, squawking thing in her arms. Morgan laughed, the tears still rolling down her face as she peered over her knees at what she had just achieved, and I was stood, spellbound, unable to fathom what had truly just happened.

"Congratulations both, it's a healthy baby boy." The nurse proclaimed, efficiently dealing with the cord that still connected our son to Morgan and wrapping him up in a blanket. "He's going to be a looker just like his Daddy, I can tell. I'll let you say hello and then I'll go clean him up." She said shooting me a wink and gently laying the still screaming baby onto Morgan's chest.

"Look…look at him." Was all she could manage as she stared down at the boy, his eyes screwed shut, his tiny fists waving around. There was a dark mop of hair plastered on his head and I wondered if he would have Morgan's eyes as well. She held out a finger to our son and he instantly clamped one of his small hands around it, his insistent cries dimming to mewls.

"We made this." She said, turning to look up at me with a wonderous expression. I felt my mouth turn up as I looked down at my brave wife and my new born son. I had a son.

"We certainly did" I said, stroking a hand over Morgan's dishevelled hair. She took my hand in her free one and brought it to her mouth, planting a feather light kiss on the palm.

"Thank you." She murmured. My eyebrows pulled down in confusion and I was about to ask her what for when the nurse returned, ready to take the baby away for cleaning.

"So, any ideas on names?" She asked as she carefully extracted our son from Morgan. I kept my eyes trained on her every movement, watching for any sign that she might harm him.

"I was thinking Carwyn for the middle name, after my Dad." She glanced up at me, her eyes shining with tears, "And Rhydian for his first name, after my Uncle." My smile widened briefly and I nodded at her. It was a good name, belonging to a good man.

* * *

"He's a serious little chap isn't he?" Charlie mused as he waved a podgy finger in front of Rhydian's face. The baby's sharp, intelligent brown eyes, which I had been glad to see he inherited from his mother, watched the finger dance in front of him. His round face was set in a stern expression of concentration, his favourite pose. His face was framed by thick wavy curls of chocolate brown hair, another Williams trait. He was gripping onto my shirt with one chubby hand, the other was resting on my arm as I held onto him.

Morgan liked to joke that Seren was my carbon copy in looks but hers in personality. Whereas, Rhydian looked like a regular Williams descendant but had taken on my mannerisms to an uncanny extent. His preferred position was right here, held at head height in my arms. He only let Morgan take him without a fuss for feeding and nap times. All other moments in his hectic daily schedule he liked to spend with me, surveying the land from a decent height.

He rarely cried, choosing instead to glare intently at anything he disapproved of and often had a serious analysing look about him when dealing with everything else. At first I had been reluctant to encourage the behaviour, but once Rhydian had made it abundantly clear he wasn't going to change no matter what I thought, I accepted my 'little shadow', as Morgan called him, and carried him everywhere with me.

"He takes after his father." Victoria cut in, flashing me a sly grin and pinching Rhydian on one of his dimpled cheeks. To which my son responded by giving her a death stare even I could be proud of.

"That he does." Charlie guffawed.

"What's so funny over here?" Morgan asked, smiling broadly as she came over to our gathering in the farm house kitchen.

"We were just wondering when you'd be getting Rudy a matching suit so he can really be 47's twin." Victoria said her grin stretching further at my unamused expression. Morgan let out a loud, carefree laugh.

"I'll see what I can do." She looked at me, her eyes twinkling with mirth as Seren barrelled into the already overcrowded kitchen.

"Ma, why did you go? I was just starting to win." She asked, an indignant expression on her face. Right now both children resembled me more than anyone else, only highlighting my obvious part in creating them. It was an odd concept to me still. Never once in my previous life had I imagined, or even entertained, the possibility of fatherhood. Now I had two offspring and a wife, I was practically domesticated.

My daughter's icy blue eyes flashed between the assembled adults, her mouth set in an annoyed line. Morgan smiled down at her, unperturbed as she always was with the fierce expression on her face.

"I'm just coming to give your brother his feed then I'll be right back with you cariad." She said calmly, holding her hands out to me. Wordlessly I extracted Rhydian's hand from my shirt and passed him over to his mother. He gave me an outraged look over her shoulder before Morgan opened the fridge and he understood what was about to transpire. Balancing him on her hip she got his bottle ready. It was clear from watching her with the baby that she had done this all before, and not for the first time since he had been born I felt a pang of regret at having not been here for her when it had been Seren.

"I'm hungry too." Seren exclaimed, her bottom lip jutting out as she watched her mother cradle her baby brother. Managing Seren's temper tantrums had become a daily chore for both of us. Apparently she was under the impression that Rhydian was here to steal everything from her, including her parents and her Uncle's name. And so, being the little tactician she was, she had made it her task to usurp him wherever possible. Especially when it came to Morgan's attention. I could see the beginnings of a storm brewing now as she stared enviously up at Rhydian with focused blue eyes.

"What were you playing?" I asked, drawing her attention to me before she decided to grab the baby from her mother's arms.

"Ma was teaching me chess." She replied, her tone brittle.

"Come. I'll finish the game with you." I stated simply and led her out of the kitchen. Victoria gave an amused snort behind me.

"This should be good." She commented following us into the living room.

The chess board was set up on the coffee table in the centre of the room. Two cushions lay on the floor either side and a half finished game was already in progress.

"Black or white?" I queried.

"White." Seren replied and I nodded. Of course Morgan would let her pick the white pieces. They had the initial advantage by virtue of going first. I folded myself onto the cushion that faced the black half of the board and waited for Seren to take her place.

"What was she teaching you?"

"How to play the Queen's gambit." Seren said, a small frown creasing her forehead as she stared down at her pieces. I felt my mouth twitch up at the corner. The Queen's gambit was a well-known chess manoeuvre that forced the black player into either defending their Queen, playing it safe and giving whites the advantage, or risk their Queen thereby turning a defensive play into an offensive one. It was a good strategy to teach the child, seeing as its main lesson was whether to use the Queen piece to its full potential or protect her at all costs.

I looked down at the pieces Morgan had been playing with and saw she had obviously accepted the gambit and was currently cornering Seren's Rook and Knight with her Queen. Continuing Morgan's play I began to take away Seren's pieces one by one, explaining what I was doing when the girl looked confused. She soon relaxed as my attention stayed firmly on her, and I could see her taking in everything I was telling her. Her eyes fixed on my hand every time I moved a piece across the board.

The gentle murmur of Morgan, Charlie and Victoria's conversation in the kitchen was rudely interrupted by a disgruntled noise from Rhydian. I heard Morgan sooth him but he only responded with a further string of outrage, increasing in volume gradually.

"I think he wants you." She said apologetically, walking into the living room holding a squirming baby in her arms. Seren's eyes flashed up to her little brother, a look of annoyance on her face. I quietly tapped the table drawing my daughter's attention to me, and giving her a deliberate look. She lowered her gaze but I knew she was upset the baby had once again taken the attention off her.

"Give him to me." I said in a low voice, keeping my eyes fixed on Seren.

"You sure?" Morgan asked and I answered by holding out my hands for my son. Rhydian stopped moving the moment he found himself in my grasp. I settled him in my lap facing his sister, his little hands resting on the coffee table between us.

"Let's continue." I said, Seren's downturned head snapped up to me. She stared at me, her mouth set in a thin line, as she sized up the new addition to our game. Rhydian was looking intently at one of the pieces nearest him, completely unaware of his sister's venomous looks. "I said let's continue." I repeated, enunciating each word.

Seren moved her next piece earning a relieved sigh from Morgan who had been watching the whole tense exchange. We progressed with the game and ended with me checkmating her with my Queen.

"And that's the aim of the Queen's gambit. Do you understand?" I said, shifting Rhydian in my grip as he tried to lean forward and take one of the pieces. Seren nodded slowly and began to get up.

Rhydian suddenly let out an unexpectedly, loud squawk of indignation. Seren frowned at him, her tolerance for her brother today limited. She straightened up and the baby squawked again, banging a tiny fist on the table.

"What's wrong with him?" She asked, her tone sour. No one answered, the gathered adults all as nonplussed as she was. When no one responded to his cries of protest Rhydian wriggled in my grasp and reached for one of the discarded chess pieces. I loosened my grip intrigued to see what he was after, allowing him to close the distance and curl a hand around one black pawn. His movements slow and deliberate he lifted the pawn and placed it perfectly in one of its starting squares.

"Well blow me down." Charlie said, grinning from ear to ear. "I think he wants to play with you Seren."

She looked down at the baby in my hands as he leant forward again and grasped another pawn, placing it with uncanny precision next to its comrade. Morgan let out a low breathy laugh. Pausing in his task Rhydian looked up at his big sister and displeased with her lack of enthusiasm at playing with him let out another disapproving bark as if to tell her to sit down.

The pair stared at each other for a moment, the rest of us holding our breath as they both decided where they stood in this uneasy relationship. Then finally Seren smiled at the baby boy in my lap and slowly sank back down onto her cushion.

"I guess I can play again if he really wants to." She said beginning to reassemble her side of the board. We watched as the children worked together to replace all the pieces, Rhydian's dexterity and accurate placement an unexpected development.

I shared a glance with Morgan and she raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on her face. Bending down she placed her smiling mouth against my ear.

"I think he's going to be as surprising as his sister." She whispered in a low voice, so only I could hear. I felt my mouth turning up into a half smile as I observed my two offspring in their temporary truce and thought about all the details that led me to this moment. All the things I had done, all the bridges I had burnt and all the lives I had ended. And thought it was a funny kind of justice that I would find myself surrounded by people I could call friends, watching my children play together with the woman I loved by my side. Life was indeed full of unexpected events and arrivals.


End file.
